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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22886269">One</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/julien'>julien (julie)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>due South</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Episode: s01e11 You Must Remember This, Episode: s01e20-21 Victoria's Secret, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, HIV/AIDS, Love, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>1997-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>1997-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:47:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,245</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22886269</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/julien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty-three-year-old Benton Fraser knows little of love when he first meets Victoria Metcalfe – and he is still learning when she crashes back into his life ten years later. The problem being that she seems determined to destroy any chance he has of love with the only other person in his life who he cares about as deeply.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Benton Fraser/Ray Vecchio, Benton Fraser/Victoria Metcalf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><strong>Notes:</strong> My  thanks to Barbara, who had the idea that sparked all this off and then  generously let me run with it – and also to mutual friends for their thoughts  and encouragement. The title is borrowed from the beautiful song of the same  name by U2, which is all directly relevant to the story.</p>
<p>This was written back in the late ’90s, and reflects what was known of HIV/AIDS at the time. </p>
<p>The story features a number of <em>Due South</em> episodes, but revolves around "Victoria's Secret" and the foreshadowing in "You Must Remember This".</p>
<p><strong>First published:</strong> 20 November 1997 in my zine Pure Maple Syrup 7.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>One </h1>
<p>♦</p><h2>PART ONE: 1984</h2>
<p>Constable Benton Fraser stood at the foot  of the grave and considered the casket lying in the raw earth six feet below. His  grandmother, Patricia Fraser, had died two days ago – and while she’d had the  most austere of souls, Benton’s world was colder for her loss. For all the  difficulties of her manner, Patricia had loved her family fiercely, and her  devotion to Benton was second only to her bond with her husband, John. Benton  hadn’t been surprised to hear that she’d followed his grandfather to the next  stage of their journey within a year of the old man’s death. Sad, of course,  but not surprised.</p>
<p>Having been brought up amidst his  grandparent’s simple Protestant beliefs, his mother’s more colorful  Catholicism, and the Inuit’s intrinsic spirituality, Benton was sure of one  thing – that there was more to his existence in the universe than this one  brief life. He had no idea what might await him beyond death, but it felt good  to contemplate the notion that his grandparents may somehow be reunited now.</p>
<p>Benton’s father, Sergeant Robert Fraser,  approached him as the other mourners began drifting away. Robert, of course,  was resplendent in his dress uniform – and even though Benton was wearing  exactly the same clothes, he felt shabby by comparison with this quintessential  Mountie.</p>
<p>The two men nodded a silent greeting, and  shook hands, before Robert turned to share Benton’s contemplation of the grave  and the coffin lying in it. Wistfully, Benton recognized that he wanted  something more from Robert, but father and son had never been demonstrative. If  they were to try now, no doubt Patricia would spin in her freshly-dug grave.</p>
<p>Caroline, Benton’s mother, had been all  warmth and affection for her only child. But she had died when he was six,  barely old enough then for him to remember her now. John Fraser had been  affectionate, too: a gentle presence with few words; meticulous and quiet and  patient in all he turned his hand to.</p>
<p>Benton had learned from these people, but  it was just him and his father now, both of them solitary souls who rarely saw  each other more than once or twice a year. From Benton’s perspective, the world  had been… emptying of late. Even his Inuit mentor, Grandpa Tadoussac, had  passed away though he’d been the kind of ancient who seemed immortal. Most if  not all of Benton’s younger friends – Inuit, white, other, and those in-between  – had moved on. The young man wasn’t entirely sure where that left him.</p>
<p>He was a Mountie, maybe that was the only  answer Benton needed. He was endeavoring to become as good a Mountie as his  father. Which was a virtually impossible goal, but Benton was prepared to  devote his heart and soul, his body and mind to striving for such an ideal. In  the meantime…</p>
<p>In the meantime, Benton Fraser was feeling  very much alone.</p>
<p>He let out a breath, and indicated to his  father that perhaps they should move on. The two of them were holding up the  work of the grave-diggers.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>As far as Benton could tell, no one at work  had taken much heed of his absence. In fact, his colleagues barely acknowledged  his return; apparently they were absorbed by the radio detection and ranging  equipment, though it seemed to have nothing to display.</p>
<p>He’d been posted here immediately after  graduation, two weeks and a day after his grandfather John had died… Benton had  been stationed here at Temperance for just over ten months now, and this was  the first time he’d taken any leave. Feeling bad about that, despite having the  most justifiable of reasons to absent himself, Benton knew he was inclined to  project that guilt onto his colleagues, and imagine them resentful.</p>
<p>Benton sat at his desk, maintaining an  unruffled demeanor. His fellow officers weren’t resentful; that didn’t explain  their behavior towards him. It was simply that, try as he might, Benton seemed  unable to build a rapport with any of them. After all this time he still  wondered why.</p>
<p>Sifting through his in-tray, Benton found a  great deal of work demanding his attention. Duties here in the Yukon were  necessarily broad, as the RCMP provided all the policing for the Territory. While  the Yukon’s population wasn’t overly numerous, and was mainly centered around  the capital Whitehorse, an outpost such as Temperance certainly kept Benton and  his four colleagues fully occupied. For a start, they were located close to the  international border that Canada shared with Alaska, which provided its own  tasks and priorities. And then there were the three rival mining companies  scattered nearby, causing more unrest than might be expected.</p>
<p>Swiveling his chair to reach for the top  drawer of his filing cabinet, Benton’s eye was caught by the framed photo of  his father in his dress reds; Benton had hung it on the wall behind his desk  for inspiration. It belatedly occurred to him that he was taller than Robert  Fraser now; he’d been looking down at the man’s face as they met by Patricia’s  grave. At twenty-three years of age, Benton had finally noticed this…</p>
<p>Taller than his revered role model. Benton  didn’t know quite what to make of that fact. Surely it was nothing more than an  insignificant detail, a random and inevitable result of different combinations  of genes… And yet, oddly, the notion dizzied him. It seemed to underline the  fact that everything was changing, his world was emptying, and Benton was no  longer quite sure where he fit, or if he fit anywhere at all.</p>
<p>Benton pulled the cabinet open with a firm  hand. Really, he told himself in Patricia’s severe tones; this way self-pity  lies.</p>
<p>The front doors swung open, letting in a  swirl of cold air and snowflakes, despite the double-door airlock arrangement. Benton  looked up to see his supervisor, Sergeant Wright, stride in. ‘What have you got  for me, people?’ he demanded while shrugging and peeling off his outer layer of  clothes. It seemed that the weather was closing in, for the Sergeant’s whiskers  were frosted with ice, presumably as a result of the ten-foot walk from his  parking space.</p>
<p>‘Lost them, sir, but I figure not for long.’</p>
<p>‘How’s that?’</p>
<p>‘They must be getting close to the St Jude  range by now, sir; they’ll have to fly higher to get over the mountains, and  the radar will pick them up again.’</p>
<p>‘Good…’</p>
<p>Well, this explained why everyone else had  been hovering around the radar equipment. Curious, Benton joined them, just in  time to see the blip recommence. A general, ‘Ah!’ was voiced. After three  sweeps of the radar, it became apparent that the plane was heading into Canada  from the United States. ‘An airspace violation, sir?’ Benton asked for the sake  of confirmation.</p>
<p>‘More than that,’ Wright informed him. ‘We  have reports of two or three bank robbers fleeing from Fort Jesse, Alaska in a  light plane. The pilot on this plane won’t respond to radioed requests for identification,  so we’re assuming it’s them.’</p>
<p>‘Ah,’ said Benton.</p>
<p>‘I’ll try again, now they’re over the  border,’ one of the other Constables suggested. She sat by the radio equipment,  ensured it was tuned into the frequency used for emergencies, and picked up the  handset. ‘This is the RCMP at Temperance, calling the American plane that  recently entered Canadian airspace. Do you read me? Over.’ Nothing but static  replied. She tried again on various frequencies.</p>
<p>‘I don’t know,’ muttered the Constable  sitting at the radar. ‘If he’s wanting Whitehorse, he’s too far north.’</p>
<p>‘No, he’ll be wanting a quieter place to  land, somewhere there’s no one to ask questions.’</p>
<p>Benton agreed with this assessment, though  he stood back from the discussion, not wanting to impose.</p>
<p>Wright gestured at the visual static on the  radar screen, and observed, ‘He’s trying to go around that storm.’</p>
<p>‘It must be a nasty one, if we’re getting  the tail-end of it here…’</p>
<p>Silence descended as the group of officers  watched the blip make slow progress in a north-north-easterly direction. The  woman on the radio was repeating, ‘This is Temperance RCMP, calling the  American plane flying over the St Jude range. Please respond. Over.’</p>
<p>‘He’s not going to make it,’ one of the  others said, finally voicing what they’d all been fearing.</p>
<p>‘Try contacting them on the emergency  channel again,’ Sergeant Wright ordered. ‘Tell them they’d better put down at  the nearest airfield they can find, and quickly.’</p>
<p>Benton offered, ‘That would be Deliverance,  sir, though even that might be beyond their reach.’</p>
<p>It was already too late. The blip dropped  off the radar screen, and soon afterwards the radio static was broken by the  pilot’s distress call. ‘Mayday. Mayday. This is Charlie Tango Zulu two three  nine. We’re going down, the engines –’ Which was when the signal broke up.</p>
<p>‘Temperance here. What is your location?’ No  reply. ‘Charlie Tango Zulu, give me your location.’ Nothing. ‘Charlie Tango  Zulu, what is your condition?’</p>
<p>The officers all stared at the radio as if  willing the static to clear, to resolve into a voice. Nothing.</p>
<p>‘Poor idiots,’ Wright said. ‘Well, people,  get yourselves ready. Once the storm’s passed we’ll send a team out. Any  volunteers? I don’t want to send more than two – perhaps three, under the  circumstances.’</p>
<p>Benton frowned. ‘Excuse me, sir, the storm  might last for hours, even days.’</p>
<p>‘Yes, Constable, it might.’</p>
<p>‘These people could be dead by then.’</p>
<p>Wright looked very steadily at Benton. This  was the directness that the Sergeant always used when trying to – as he put it –  talk sense into his staff. ‘Any officers I send after them could be dead by  then, too. I don’t like making these kinds of decisions, Fraser, but sometimes  there’s nothing else to do.’</p>
<p>Benton endeavored to school his features  into obedience, but his internal protest must have been evident.</p>
<p>‘Constable, a guard was shot and killed  during the robbery. These people will be desperate. We need to handle this  carefully.’</p>
<p>One of Benton’s colleagues added, ‘It’s a  hell of a risk, Fraser, going out there in weather like this. And would we take  that risk if they were model citizens? I doubt it. So, why would we bother for  them?’</p>
<p>‘Because they’re human beings,’ Benton said  tightly. He faced Sergeant Wright and stood to attention. ‘I’ll go, sir.’</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>He hadn’t expected her to be beautiful.</p>
<p>It was a wonder he even reached her,  actually. Benton had been forced to abandon the RCMP four-wheel-drive vehicle  early on the second day when the driving conditions deteriorated; and he’d set  out on foot. Then early on the third day he’d fallen down a ravine in the  foothills of the St Jude range – a ravine that had been treacherously hidden by  a snowdrift – and while scrambling out he’d lost his backpack. Rather than  spend precious time climbing down again and searching for it, he’d decided to  keep going, though the only thing he had left other than his clothes was his  rifle. The people he was tracking would no doubt appreciate his help as soon as  possible, and their plane must have carried survival supplies.</p>
<p>Benton located the plane two hours later –  which was just as well because the storm appeared set to close in again, and he  thought the wreckage must soon be covered in snow. Unfortunately, however, the  plane was burned out, and he could only hope that any supplies it carried hadn’t  been destroyed.</p>
<p>Looking around him at the hills he’d just  climbed, and the majestic mountains above, Benton wondered where any survivors  might be sheltering. The most sensible place would be up closer to the pass –  Fortitude Pass, if his geography wasn’t too far askew – where a living creature  could let the peak bear the brunt of the weather on his or her behalf. And,  indeed, once Benton had worked his way further up the slope, that’s where he  found her; huddling with her legs drawn up and her arms wrapped around her  torso.</p>
<p>She was beautiful.</p>
<p>He stood before her, he stood there alone  before her; and his hands were empty, his whole world was empty; he was no one,  really, in his civilian clothes and having lost everything; he towered there,  tall and large and blundering, his footing uncertain. She gazed up at him, and  she was beautiful even though she was near death, her dark eyes large in her  gaunt face. He was reminded of Snow White, with her hair of ebony and her skin  pale as snow – though of course her lips were too cold to be red as blood. He  wondered how she’d look when not frozen, and he surmised she’d be devastating.</p>
<p>Suddenly, for no apparent reason, she  smiled directly at him. A broad smile, a life-warming smile. It stirred him.</p>
<p>‘Ma’am,’ he greeted her politely, breaking  out of that empty moment, reaching once more for his name. ‘Constable Benton  Fraser, RCMP. I’m here to help you.’</p>
<p>The smile faded into a frown. Eyes darting  glances left and right beyond him, the young woman now seeming more conscious  and aware than she had been. ‘Are you here to rescue me,’ she asked, ‘or arrest  me?’</p>
<p>‘Both.’</p>
<p>She nodded, not looking up at him anymore,  apparently resigned to her fate. ‘Get me out of here, Constable, take me some  place warm.’</p>
<p>He tilted his head, considering her. ‘Well,  we have a problem – I believe the storm will soon close in around us. We won’t  be able to travel, so I suggest we remain here for the duration.’</p>
<p>‘You’re kidding,’ she said flatly.</p>
<p>‘No, ma’am.’</p>
<p>She looked up at him. ‘You have food, a tent…?’</p>
<p>‘I’m afraid not.’</p>
<p>Those eyes of hers were very dark, very  knowing; and her expression was clever and challenging and cynical all at once.  ‘You were really intending to <em>rescue</em> me?’</p>
<p>‘Yes, ma’am.’ He gestured around them. ‘You’ve  already found the best shelter available, and I’m not completely lacking in  resources. Our surroundings and our situation may appear bleak, but I’m sure we’ll  be fine.’</p>
<p>‘<em>I  doubt it not</em>,’ she sarcastically replied, ‘<em>and all these woes shall serve for sweet discourses in our times to  come</em>.’</p>
<p>Benton almost laughed in surprise and  delight; instead he let himself give her his true smile, the one that reached  high enough to shine through his eyes. This beautiful woman was quoting <em>Romeo and Juliet</em> at him…</p>
<p>She tried in vain to quell her own  instinctive smile, and then she skipped back a few scenes. ‘<em>Dost thou not laugh?</em>’</p>
<p>‘<em>No,  coz</em>,’ Benton responded with Benvolio’s line, ‘<em>I rather weep</em>.’</p>
<p>‘<em>Good  heart, at what?</em>’</p>
<p>‘<em>At  thy good heart’s oppression</em>.’ He dropped his gaze, breaking the moment. ‘Ma’am,  I need to ask where your companions are.’</p>
<p>She huddled further into her own embrace. ‘The  pilot went that way,’ and she lifted her chin in a dismissive gesture,  indicating somewhere south. ‘I tried to follow, but he deliberately left me  behind…’ Swallowing hard, she maintained a hold on her anger.</p>
<p>‘Was he one of your colleagues?’</p>
<p>‘No, we hired him; he didn’t know why until  we were ready to take off.’</p>
<p>‘Were there any survival rations on the  plane?’</p>
<p>She looked directly at him. ‘I already ate  what he left me.’</p>
<p>Fraser nodded. ‘Ma’am, where are your  partners?’</p>
<p>Anger again, and something distraught  clouding her face. ‘Jolly had his own plans for leaving Fort Jesse; I don’t  know where he is. Ed… Ed should have been on the plane with me, but he barely  made it to the airfield…’</p>
<p>‘I’m sorry, ma’am,’ he offered. ‘The  reports we received didn’t mention any injuries sustained.’</p>
<p>‘I’m sorry, too.’ Defiance now, mixed in  with her despair: this woman was bewitching as well as beautiful, brimming over  with bounteous emotion. ‘One of the guards shot him, he died later. Much later.’</p>
<p>He nodded his understanding. It wouldn’t  have been an easy death, either to suffer or to witness.</p>
<p>Well, there seemed little point in endeavoring  to track the pilot; he had set out alone, and it seemed he must continue to  make his own way. Benton would have enough to deal with, keeping this woman and  himself alive.</p>
<p>Heavy clouds were massing behind the  mountain’s peak; it was time to improvise better shelter for them both. Benton  unstrapped his rifle, and found a crevice in the rocks nearby, just the right  size to wedge the butt of it in so that it stood firm. He took his leather coat  off, and draped it around the rifle, forming a makeshift lean-to. That left him  in his woolen sweater, flannel shirt, jeans, long-johns and boots: it was  enough. Satisfied with his efforts so far, he went to her.</p>
<p>Her eyes had closed, and Benton had to  touch her cheek to gain her attention: her bare flesh was so cold against his  fingertips he almost moaned in pity and sorrow. It was a wonder she’d lasted  this long.</p>
<p>She could barely move, so Benton gathered  her up in his arms, carried her over to the lean-to and then settled them both  within it; holding her bundled-up body on his lap, wrapping his arms around  her, enveloping her with all of himself, willing his own warmth to pass into  her… The storm closed in around them, blanketing them in darkness and turmoil. He  tucked his head in beside hers, burying his face against her throat, so that  all he could hear was the sound of her weak heartbeat.</p>
<p>‘Talk to me, ma’am.’ Silence. ‘Ma’am, talk  to me. It’s important to remain awake.’ In fact, if either of them slipped into  sleep or unconsciousness, they would probably never wake again.</p>
<p>He could feel her sigh, and then she  whispered, ‘Why do you call me that?’</p>
<p>‘Because I don’t know your name.’</p>
<p>A moment, and then she said, ‘Victoria.’</p>
<p>The regality and the beauty of it suited  her. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’ Fastening on this as a topic, he forced himself to  keep speaking. ‘Your name is quite the good omen. It is based on the Latin word  for victory, though its current form came to us through the German language.’</p>
<p>‘Really. And what should I call you,  Constable?’</p>
<p>‘Most people call me Fraser.’</p>
<p>‘All right. Fraser.’</p>
<p>However, he was all too aware that the  number of people in the world who used his given name was diminishing fast. He  offered, ‘Under the circumstances, ma’am, perhaps you should call me Benton.’</p>
<p>‘Benton?’</p>
<p>‘Well, my family often called me Ben.’ And  it didn’t seem too presumptuous: she was the most beautiful creature he had  ever laid eyes on; she quoted romantic tragedies; he had already witnessed her  intelligence and her emotion, her despair and her will to live; furthermore, he  was currently enfolded around her slim body, and he fully intended that they  would save each other’s life.</p>
<p>‘Ben.’</p>
<p>‘Talk to me, Victoria.’ Silence again. ‘Tell  me about Ed.’</p>
<p>That worked: a shudder ran through her  frame. ‘He was… He and I were…’</p>
<p>‘He was your boyfriend?’ he offered.</p>
<p>‘Yes. Well, it’s not that I…’ A pause fraught  with difficulty, and then she lapsed into silence again.</p>
<p>‘Tell me,’ Benton softly prompted.</p>
<p>‘Ed had his moments, there was something  about him – there was something about him I loved. But more often than not he  treated me badly. He became… careless. Especially after he got mixed up with  Jolly.’</p>
<p>‘I’m sorry.’</p>
<p>‘So was I, believe me. Jolly insisted I  should be the getaway driver for the bank job. I didn’t want to. I think Jolly  wanted a hostage available in case Ed double-crossed him.’</p>
<p>‘They forced you to commit this crime…?’</p>
<p>Silence again, though it was thoughtful  this time. ‘No,’ Victoria said at last, speaking slowly. ‘I’m no innocent, Ben;  I won’t make excuses for what I did. It’s just that I thought this particular  job was too risky – and it was. I’m no innocent, and Ed was… someone I  deserved.’</p>
<p>‘No,’ he protested; ‘no one deserves  cruelty.’</p>
<p>She pressed herself up against him then, as  well as she was able, as if grateful for his reassurance; she said, ‘Ben. Tell  me about you,’ and it was obvious from her tone that she was interested.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Benton was hungry, cold and empty and  hungry, and the only thing he had in the whole world was the beautiful young  woman curled up in his arms. The day passed, and the night was dark and awful  around them, and dawn seemed an impossible dream. Light-headed, Benton clung to  consciousness though he knew by now it was hopeless; he would freeze here,  sitting cross-legged in the snow, embracing Victoria.</p>
<p>Dawn arrived at last, but even though the  cold eased it was still beyond what any human might bear. Benton was supposed  to be talking, and sounds were indeed coming out of his mouth, and he wondered  at their meaning.</p>
<p>‘Ssshhh,’ she whispered at some stage, and  it was the most tempting notion he’d ever contemplated, to simply give in, let  go, drift away, fall free… But she was talking now, the cadence of her voice  indicating she was reciting a poem, though the exact details were indistinct. ‘<em>I caught this morning morning’s minion</em>…’</p>
<p>Her words became the only thing he could  fasten hope to: if he listened carefully enough perhaps he could discern her  words’ meaning. His grandmother would be ashamed of him being unable to  identify the poet and the poem. He’d better try harder.</p>
<p>‘…<em>and  striding high there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing in his  ecstasy!</em>’</p>
<p>This most beautiful of voices reminded  Benton of his mother telling him a gentle-toned story at bedtime, as his  eyelids grew heavier and heavier. A dangerous memory to echo now, when he must  stay awake. To distract himself further, Benton took Victoria’s narrow fingers,  and he put them in his mouth to keep them warm.</p>
<p>‘…<em>and  blue-bleak embers, ah my dear, fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion</em>.’</p>
<p>The bold, violent, awe-filled imagery  puzzled him, stirred him, forced the blood to flow no-matter-how-sluggishly  through his veins.</p>
<p>‘<em>I  caught this morning morning’s minion</em>…’</p>
<p>Was this the nine-hundredth time she’d  recited the poem? Or the nine-hundred-first?</p>
<p>‘Ben…’</p>
<p>Fear in that beautiful voice now; Benton  listened to it, the warm nugget of his appreciation buried deep within him.</p>
<p>‘Damn you! Ben, wake up!’</p>
<p>The fear now turned to fury. That fine  anger of hers – rarely far below the surface – was boiling over. Benton would  have smiled if he could.</p>
<p>‘Ben!’</p>
<p>Eventually he found the wherewithal to open  his eyes, one at a time; the effort was rewarded by her patent relief.</p>
<p>‘Ben, look!’ She’d parted the coat enough  for them to see a scrap of sky – clear sky! The storm had passed, and the stars  were newly out; Benton managed to shift his frozen ungainly arms around her. ‘No,  look up there…’</p>
<p>The aurora borealis spun its magic above  the northern horizon, greens and blues misting and sweeping against soft  blackness, the stars a bright precious scatter throughout. Benton and Victoria  were alive.</p>
<p>‘I’ve never seen it so beautiful,’ she  whispered.</p>
<p>He was an insignificant speck under the  might of the cosmos, he was hollow and adrift and empty. He said, ‘I’ve… I’ve  lost everything.’</p>
<p>‘But you’ve found me,’ Victoria said,  supremely satisfied. She turned from the universe’s cold distant display to  gaze at him instead.</p>
<p>‘Yes,’ he acknowledged at last. ‘I’ve found  you.’</p>
<p>And when Victoria slowly closed the few centimeters’  distance between them, Benton didn’t draw away. They kissed: a token kiss only,  perhaps, with their frozen lips clumsy and hurting; it was a kiss,  nevertheless, stirring Benton’s very soul.</p>
<p>She broke away, and he announced, ‘Tomorrow,  we’ll try to find my pack.’</p>
<p>‘You have food?’ she asked.</p>
<p>‘Yes. And other supplies, a tent…’</p>
<p>‘We’re going to live, aren’t we, Ben?’ Her  dark eyes glowing, her tenacity rekindling his own will. ‘We’re going to  survive.’</p>
<p>‘Yes, we are.’</p>
<p>‘Do you know,’ she began, ‘I’d almost given  up faith. But here you are, a genuine knight in shining armor. It’s a pity that  someone like you could never love someone like me.’</p>
<p>Something inside of him cracked asunder at  this bleak certainty.</p>
<p>‘But that’s all right,’ she continued –  this brave, smart, tough, beautiful woman. ‘I’ll find another Ed, and make do  with him.’</p>
<p>‘You deserve better,’ he said, his voice  gruff with the cold. The thing inside him broke further, and then fell apart.</p>
<p>‘Do I? No – <em>I am a lone lorn creetur</em>… <em>and  everythink goes contrairy with me</em>.’ A Dickens quote, in a mock Cockney  accent.</p>
<p>Fraser held his breath, full of wonder. He  felt he <em>knew</em> this woman, and she <em>knew</em> him; she fit the lonely ache in  him, and made him whole. ‘Victoria,’ he said roughly. And when she looked at  him, he kissed her once more; enveloping all of her with all of himself, the  two of them becoming one. The yearning in him was answered, and flourished a  thousand-fold, and was answered again.</p>
<p>Seeing something of the truth on his face,  she seemed torn between denying him and imploring… She asserted, ‘It isn’t  possible.’</p>
<p>‘Isn’t the best kind of love,’ he countered,  ‘completely unconditional?’ Her gaze ate him up; she was as hungry for him as  he was for her. ‘I know you, Victoria, I know who you are.’</p>
<p>Another kiss, and the passion seemed to  thaw their skin so that it became a more sensual thing.</p>
<p>‘Ben,’ she whispered fiercely, ‘I’d show  you my love if I could. I’d give you my love, I’d make love with you.’</p>
<p>And he knew that such a union was  permissible; it would even be blessed, because <em>she</em> was the one he’d been waiting for. It felt so perfectly right,  as if their meeting meshed with the pattern of things beyond his ken… Oh,  Benton had never before been so strongly inclined to lose his virginity; to  shed his purity and his isolation, to join with another human being, to <em>know</em> her in all senses of the word. He  was smiling, delighted. Yes, it was cold but he was… yes, he was capable. Benton  let out a chuckle, caught between the sublime and the earthly. He had always  had a strong sense of the practical to balance his equally strong sense of the  ideal. However, even as his mind presented various more-or-less feasible  options to him, he said, ‘We can’t, Victoria; we can’t afford to expend that  many calories.’</p>
<p>‘Calories?’ she repeated blankly.</p>
<p>‘We’ve survived this long, but we’ll need  all our energy if we’re to reach the nearest outpost.’</p>
<p>A moment passed. She might have been  disappointed, or angry with him, or frustrated, or any one of a hundred  emotions; finally she settled on fondness and acceptance. ‘We’ll save our  energy,’ she said, making it a promise full of happy innuendo.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Benton didn’t find his backpack until late  the next day. Victoria had been patient and tireless, following him through the  snow and the cold under the achingly clear skies, enduring without complaint. He  was grateful for her maintaining her humor – and impressed by her, too.</p>
<p>They ate ravenously, at once consuming  everything that he’d carried; all the while laughing as if they were on a  picnic… It was delightful, and they both felt restored by the nourishment.</p>
<p>That night, they had a tent for shelter and  a sleeping bag to curl up in. ‘Are we going to make love?’ she asked, her  beautiful voice husky.</p>
<p>He shook his head in the negative, even as  his lips were curling into a true smile. ‘We can’t, Victoria,’ he said once  more. ‘It still might take a day or two to reach an outpost, and there’s no  more food.’</p>
<p>‘I never knew knights in shining armor were  so practical,’ she commented.</p>
<p>‘If I made love with you now,’ he  responded, ‘much as I would like to, it would not be the act of celebration and  connection that it should be. It would be an act of utter despair.’</p>
<p>‘Despair?’ She frowned at him. ‘Why do you  say that?’</p>
<p>‘Because it would mean I had given up all  hope of us surviving. I would be burning up the last of our calories as a vain  gesture of defiance.’</p>
<p>‘What a way to go…’ she murmured. A grin  enlivened her face, though the expression was tinged with regret. ‘You know, I  really can’t argue with that. I <em>want</em> to survive, Ben.’</p>
<p>He drew her even closer, and kissed her  poor chapped lips. They slept the night through; fully-clothed, but as deep in  each other’s arms as if they were two-made-one.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Four more days they were out there in the  wild, four days wandering witless. It seemed that every decision Benton made,  every direction he took, was the wrong one. They blundered around. The compass  confused him. The only thing Benton had any success at was hunting and trapping  just enough food to survive on.</p>
<p>There had been no point in trying to reach  Benton’s abandoned four-wheel-drive – he wouldn’t have been able to start it,  and the roads probably remained impassable. They tried to reach the town of  Deliverance, but couldn’t negotiate the terrain on foot. They seemed to make no  progress towards other outposts.</p>
<p>For all they knew, Benton and Victoria  could have been the only two people left alive in the whole world. They talked.  They spent their days and nights communicating, so that Benton thought it  couldn’t be possible to know another human being more thoroughly than this; he  had seen her in life-threatened extremity, in blessed joy, in searing anger, in  every mood. There was an understanding, a rapport between them that seemed as  natural and as spiritual, as real and as magical as the aurora borealis.</p>
<p>But on the fourth day Benton faced the  truth: he was postponing the inevitable. Within an hour, as dusk began falling,  he saw a church steeple on the horizon. They had reached Deliverance.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Without commenting on the matter, Benton  and Victoria set up the tent. It seemed they both wanted this last night alone  together before they walked into Deliverance. One last chance for… well, for  many things. They were hungry and cold and exhausted, but the town’s frugal  comforts could wait. Delaying the end of their journey for one more night wasn’t <em>quite</em> the least sensible thing Benton  had ever done.</p>
<p>Still wordless, Benton sat cross-legged,  and drew her into his arms, embracing her in the same way he’d held her during  the day and the night and the day they’d endured under Fortitude Pass. And they  sat there in silence, two-made-one, for a long while.</p>
<p>Eventually Victoria said, ‘Ben, I want you  to let me go.’</p>
<p>He felt very still inside. Very still. But  not as empty as he had been. He wasn’t shocked: he had, unconsciously at least,  been expecting this moment. This awful moment. He said, ‘I can’t do that.’</p>
<p>‘No one need ever know,’ she promised. ‘No  one knows who I am, no one knows that you found me. There’ll never be any  embarrassing questions because no one else is ever going to arrest me.’</p>
<p>‘I can’t let you go, Victoria,’ he steadily  repeated.</p>
<p>‘Why not?’ she cried out.</p>
<p>‘Because I’m a Mountie.’ And maybe that was  the only answer Benton would ever need.</p>
<p>Those dark clever eyes of hers considered  him. ‘What if I just get up and walk out of the tent right now…?’</p>
<p>‘I can’t let you go.’ And, indeed, his arms  were strong around her, holding her slim body close to his for what he knew  would be the last time.</p>
<p>‘What would you do if I just walked away?’</p>
<p>‘I’d go with you.’</p>
<p>Hope sparked within her.</p>
<p>He quickly quelled it. ‘I’d follow you, and  I’d tell them who you are, and I’d arrest you. It’s the law, Victoria.’</p>
<p>She was staring at him now, hard. Disbelieving  and despairing all at once. ‘Ben,’ she said, ‘I love you. And you love me.’</p>
<p>It was true. His eyes drifted closed in  brief surrender. And then opened again.</p>
<p>‘How can you do this to me?’ she demanded.</p>
<p>‘You broke the law, two men were killed,  property was stolen…’</p>
<p>‘<em>I</em> didn’t kill anyone!’</p>
<p>They looked at each other then, and Benton  saw the moment’s hard speculation in her dark eyes. If she killed Benton now,  she could just walk away…</p>
<p>‘Oh, Victoria,’ he said, mourning for her,  for him, for the world. ‘I love you,’ he declared, simply for the sake of  saying it, not with any thought of pleading for his life. She wasn’t that  desperate. Not yet.</p>
<p>‘Then why won’t you let me go?’</p>
<p>‘Because I wouldn’t be the person you love  if I didn’t arrest you. I’d be someone else; someone who’d broken a solemn  oath.’</p>
<p>‘And you choose that oath over me?’</p>
<p>‘Would you want me if I didn’t? How could  you ever trust the word of an oath-breaker?’</p>
<p>She returned his gaze intently. ‘I would  trust your <em>heart</em>, Ben.’</p>
<p>It was hopeless. They talked throughout the  night: Victoria pleading and arguing and begging and demanding; Benton barely  able to withstand the emotional onslaught, but remaining firm nevertheless. And  even though it seemed clear what he must do, she made it a difficult resolution  for him to keep to. To characterize her as disappointed was putting the matter  mildly: Victoria was a romantic who had expected his love for her to be his  only guide. And, oh, he <em>did</em> love her.</p>
<p>Not once did she make excuses for what she  had done: he admired that. But neither did she repent of her crimes. Benton  explained, ‘I want you to pay your debt to society.’</p>
<p>Uninterested, she grimaced and said, ‘I don’t  owe society anything. What has society ever given me?’</p>
<p>‘Pay your debt for <em>me</em>, then,’ he pleaded; ‘and afterwards you’ll be free and I’ll be  waiting for you.’</p>
<p>‘Let me go, for me,’ she countered; ‘and I’ll  be free – and you, Ben, you could be with me now and for all the years to come.’</p>
<p>And it was tempting to do as she wished, he  had to admit that.</p>
<p>‘Do you really want me to suffer through  prison? Do you know what it’s like? How can you send someone you love to a  place like that? For <em>years</em>, Ben. They’ll  put me away for a long long time – they’ll shut me away for the years that  could be the best of my life, if I had you.’</p>
<p>And he knew that prison tended to confirm  people in a life of crime, rather than rehabilitate them. ‘It’s not easy,’ he  said, the words choking him, ‘doing your duty.’ The justice system wasn’t  perfect. ‘Don’t think this is easy for me.’ But this was what his father would  have done.</p>
<p>‘Let me go, Ben. Let me go, and you’ll  never see me again.’</p>
<p>Pain clenched his heart.</p>
<p>‘No? Then let me go, and come with me, Ben.  Be with me. I love you…’</p>
<p>‘The road to hell,’ he said, quoting his  grandmother, ‘is paved with easy choices.’ The difficult decision was the right  one; the easy choice would always be wrong.</p>
<p>‘Make love with me, Ben. Let me show you my  love.’</p>
<p>‘No,’ he said. It seemed she figured that  was the best – or worst – temptation she could offer. Paradoxically it had the  opposite effect to what she intended. ‘No, Victoria,’ he said gently, not  needing to defend himself against her any longer. ‘If we made love now, it would  be the darkest of acts.’</p>
<p>‘It would be a proper farewell,’ she  murmured; ‘a way for us to remember each other.’</p>
<p>‘But I won’t be forgetting you,’ he  promised.</p>
<p>She stared at him, those dark eyes of hers  luminous; though, if there were tears, none fell.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Dawn. They walked towards town. Victoria  was angry at him, a righteous lava-hot anger. Angry at him, at herself, at Ed  and Jolly, at the world, at the storm, at the pilot… Angry because she was  defeated, and there was nothing she could do about it. Benton followed her,  aching with sorrow for her.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>For one ghastly heart-shattering moment –  when he’d handed her over to the RCMP officer at Deliverance, and it was all  too late, too late – Benton knew he’d made the wrong decision. He should have  let her go.</p>
<p>If a person could save the world by saving  one fellow human being at a time, then why shouldn’t he have started with  Victoria? He looked at her, and she glared back at him, as bitterly regretful  in that moment as he was. Benton knew that he should have let her go; and  Victoria knew that she should have killed him and walked away.</p>
<p>But the intensity of it faded, he put his  brief doubts behind him, and even she seemed to change her mind. They exchanged  a last turbulent glance, and then the other police officer led Victoria  Metcalfe away.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>As far as Benton Fraser could tell, no one  at work had taken much heed of his absence. He walked in, wearing his standard  issue uniform, and feeling thoroughly dull, deadened, defeated. His colleagues  barely acknowledged him.</p>
<p>Dad, he silently asked the photo behind his  desk; is it wise for a Mountie to be this numb? Can one do one’s duty in this  awful state?</p>
<p>Well, nothing had changed, really. He’d had  an adventure of sorts, but now he’d returned to his normal life.</p>
<p>Nothing had changed. Fraser was as lonely  as he’d ever been. And he warned himself: loneliness could drive a man to do  strange things.</p>
<p>♦</p><h2>PART TWO: 1994</h2>
<p>Another grave, and another coffin. Fraser  stood there considering the casket, quietly contemplating the relationship he’d  had with his father. Regret weighed him down…</p>
<p>Sergeant Robert Fraser had been a provider,  a maker of rules, a role model, an icon, the perfect Mountie; he’d rarely if  ever simply been a Dad. There’d been a distance between father and son, a  remoteness that Benton always assumed would finally be bridged one day. Well,  such a day was impossible now. Such a future had been taken from them by a  murderer’s bullet. Understanding came too late: the bridge could have been  built at any time over the years, with little more cost than the effort of raw  willingness.</p>
<p>Benton Fraser was alone, truly alone. Of  course, the hard truth was that he’d been alone and empty ever since the  terrible year in which his grandparents both died, but at least while Robert  Fraser was alive there’d been someone left in the world who belonged to Benton;  at least while he was alive there’d been hope. Minimal as it was, Benton valued  his relationship with his father more than anything.</p>
<p>Even though it had provided little more  than hope and isolation. Ten years of occasional stilted conversations over the  phone, and neither man ever quite facing the other’s direct gaze the few times  they met… Ten years in which Benton worked hard to develop his skills, to be  worthy of the RCMP uniform, to earn his father’s respect.</p>
<p>None of his achievements helped this  loneliness. Of course, Robert’s life-long friends were here attending the  funeral and wake; but while Buck Frobisher and Gerard were among the handful of  people left who used Benton’s given name, their gruff comfort and reticent  grief didn’t warm him.</p>
<p>Did he expect too much of the world? Benton  pondered this as he gazed six feet down into the icy earth. Was he being  unreasonable or selfish? Was his yearning for companionship a flaw in his  character? Such questions were rarely even formed, let alone indulged. During  the past ten years, Benton had been… satisfied. His vocation was a worthy one,  and he took pride in fulfilling his responsibilities well; any difficulties he  faced and overcame only proved he was following the right path. Even though  duty sometimes felt… hollow. It wasn’t often he wished for more in his life. Not  often at all.</p>
<p>With his uncanny sense of timing,  Diefenbaker trotted up to Fraser, and settled obediently at his side. There: Benton  wasn’t entirely alone in the world; he had found the most loyal of companions  in this wolf. He really should count his blessings.</p>
<p>Although Diefenbaker seemed content to  wait, Fraser quickly grew impatient with himself. What purpose did this serve,  standing there staring at a coffin, asking impossible questions of someone who  wouldn’t answer even if he were capable? Such self-pity did not serve him, or  grace the uniform. Fraser straightened himself, and offered his father a last  respectful nod, before turning away. ‘Diefenbaker! Come on.’ The other members  of the party were expecting Fraser in the bar; he would take the opportunity to  gain permission to seek justice for his father’s killer.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Chicago, Illinois and – thank God –  Detective Ray Vecchio. Just as Fraser was cut permanently adrift in the world  by the death of his father, Ray surged into his life with all the subtlety of a  carnival. Loud, contradictory, insecure, chaotic, wonderful Ray.</p>
<p>They met as soon as Fraser arrived in  Chicago, because Ray was the officer assigned to investigate the murder of  Sergeant Robert Fraser. Their mutual misunderstanding and Ray’s initial  antagonism quickly gave way to a profitable partnership. Ray’s appalling  insensitivity in referring to the case as <em>the  dead Mountie thing</em> soon proved to be the exception rather than the rule in  his behavior. Not only did the Detective put himself out time and again to  progress the case, but Ray invited Fraser home for a Vecchio family dinner. Later  that night, Ray ran into danger himself in order to push Fraser out of a window  to safety; days after that, Ray left his hospital bed to follow Fraser back up  to the Territories, simply because the cop wanted to help solve the case – all  the while complaining that getting his name in the <em>Yukon Gazette</em> wasn’t going to do bupkis for his career…</p>
<p>For all his flamboyant carelessness, Ray  was a professional police officer. He might have convinced everyone including  himself that the opposite was true, but Ray was a natural detective, with fine  instincts which complemented Fraser’s logic and analysis. They shared a  detective’s core qualities: Ray was smart, curious, creative, observant,  persistent, self-sacrificing.</p>
<p>He’d recount a situation in his idiolect –  which was as full of colorful imagery as his shirts – pausing every now and  then with a ‘This makes me curious’. Or he’d refer to hat lines, fire hydrants  and moose calls all within the space of a breath. Diefenbaker befriended the  man immediately.</p>
<p>Fraser suspected that the noise, and the  complaints, and the shady act, were all a deliberate attempt on Ray’s part to  obscure his fundamentally good nature. Deliberate, though often unconscious. At  times Ray could be bizarrely unaware: declaring there was no reason to be nice  to people, and there was no reason to pay attention to details such as a person’s  name; while simultaneously complaining about the poor service he was receiving  from someone whom Ray had at best ignored and at worst insulted…</p>
<p>The next thing Fraser knew, Ray would be  wrestling with an old lady for possession of an item of evidence, crying out, ‘Give  me the bag!’ when a polite request was all that was required. Well, yes, all  right: a polite request and fifty dollars.</p>
<p>While Ray was a torrent of surprises,  Fraser nevertheless felt as if he knew this man. Perhaps in some ways Fraser  even identified with this fellow human being who otherwise seemed to be his  opposite. They were both unappreciated as law enforcement officers. And, Fraser  thought, they were both lonely. A casual observer mightn’t necessarily see that  Ray was lonely amidst his multitude of family, friends, acquaintances,  colleagues, contacts, and those in-between – but he was.</p>
<p>And when Fraser was in a state of shock  after being shot in the hat, Ray’s sarcasm and bluster were forgotten; instead  he was all reassurance. ‘We can do that, Fraser.’ Under the traumatic  circumstances, Fraser was only able to truly appreciate this later – but Ray  proved once more he was the most compassionate of men.</p>
<p>Afterwards, despite Ray insisting that he  didn’t trust Fraser, Fraser told Ray that he was his best friend. Ray had  grinned, patently happy. ‘I am?’ he asked in surprise. And then the man  frowned, all his insecurities resurfacing. ‘Hey, exactly how many best friends  have you had?’</p>
<p>Well, Fraser hadn’t had a best friend since  he was thirteen – twenty years ago now – but he wasn’t about to tell Ray that  tale yet.</p>
<p>Benton Fraser would never have picked Ray  Vecchio out of a line-up as a potential best friend, but the fact remained that  was what Ray had become. During this exile from Canada, Ray was the most  valuable thing in Fraser’s life.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>He hadn’t seen Victoria Metcalfe since the  conclusion of her trial in Alaska, and he hadn’t even thought about her in  years. In fact, it was so long since Fraser had developed the discipline of  suppressing any memory of her, that the habit had become a completely  unconscious one. An old guilt, a long-ago regret, a rusty untoward yearning  buried deep. Well, Ray managed to change all that.</p>
<p>Ray Vecchio fell in love with a mysterious  and beautiful woman – Ray’s word for her was <em>exquisite</em>. Fraser had only left him alone for a few minutes, while  chasing after a gun-runner named Frank Bodine. In that time Ray had been hit by  a car and rescued by the car’s driver; and he’d fallen in love with her, too,  while concussed.</p>
<p>Lieutenant Welsh gave his permission for  Ray to stake out Bodine’s apartment, with Fraser’s company of course; they  shared the task with Detectives Jack Huey and Louis Gardino. Late one night  Louis and Huey had stayed on rather than go home after their shift, and the  four of them ended up playing a game of poker and talking about the nature of  love.</p>
<p>‘It’s all about signs,’ Ray declared as he  discarded three cards.</p>
<p>Louis asked, ‘What do you mean, signs?’</p>
<p>‘Women give you signs, to let you know that  they’re the right woman for you.’</p>
<p>‘She hit you with her car,’ Louis pointed  out; and indeed Ray was sporting a bruise on his forehead as a result. ‘You  call that a sign?’</p>
<p>Fraser said, ‘You know, when the French fall  in love, they say they’ve been hit by a coup de foudre.’ None of his companions  understood the language, so he translated: ‘A bolt of lightning.’ He continued,  ‘Love is a very disorienting emotion. As a matter of fact, they’ve done  experiments to demonstrate that hamsters, when they’re mating, secrete a  hormone that makes them behave irresponsibly.’</p>
<p>And then Fraser recalled the clap of  thunder that had resounded through him below Fortitude Pass; he abruptly  remembered the temptation and the turbulent hurt as if it were yesterday. It  was troubling to realize that he hadn’t really put it all behind him…</p>
<p>The poker game faltered on. Some while  later Huey announced, ‘I think there’s two-million women on this planet you  could be happy with. You meet one, and you gotta ask yourself is this number  one, number two-million, or number six-hundred-seventeen. It’s a crap-shoot. You  could settle for number six-hundred-seventeen, and tomorrow meet number eleven.’</p>
<p>Poor Louis concluded that his ex-wives were  numbers two-million-one, two-million-two and two-million-three.</p>
<p>Fraser found this topic very confusing. Ten  years ago, he had indeed been hit by a coup de foudre – surely the very  intensity of his love for Victoria, and hers for him, meant that she was in  effect his number one. It had felt inevitable at the time… And yet he had been  so young; he hardly knew what to make of the affair now. It had been so  impossible for them to be together – did that mean she was really number two-million-one,  even though the emotion between them was genuine? Perhaps the whole thing had  been nothing more than a horrible mistake.</p>
<p>At one point Ray told him, ‘Fraser, nobody  who’s prudent has any business being in love.’ And Fraser, used to considering  himself as such, wondered if he was beginning to agree. When Fraser picked up  the thread of the conversation again, a heartfelt Ray was asking, ‘What about  love? What about that moment when you know that this is the woman you want to  spend every waking hour with for the rest of your life? I’m telling you, you’ve  got to have that moment in your life when you know that you will never ever be  the same again.’</p>
<p>It seemed that Ray was someone whom Fraser  could learn from in this regard. ‘When it happens,’ Fraser carefully asked, ‘how  do you know?’</p>
<p>‘You just know,’ Ray said, with great  authority. ‘You just know. And that’s what happened to me on Saturday night.’ He  looked so satisfied, so… sure. So centered and energized. ‘I got the sign.’</p>
<p>Louis observed, ‘Now all you’ve got to do  is find her.’</p>
<p>‘Hey, I’ll find her. I’ll find her.’ Ray  got up, and went to stand by the window, gazing out into the night. ‘You only  meet the woman of your dreams once in a lifetime. I’ll find her. You watch.’</p>
<p>Only once? Then the woman of his own dreams  had to be Victoria, Fraser concluded. There had been no other woman in his  thirty-three years who’d made him feel anything comparable. And yet it had been  so impossible. She’d been his number two-<em>billion</em>-one.</p>
<p>It had been a long while since anyone but  Huey had paid any attention to the poker game, so Fraser was pleasantly  surprised to find that he was winning.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Fraser told Ray something of his and  Victoria’s story, later when the two of them were alone again. He recounted the  heart-breaking tale, hoping that Ray could advise him. Even as he spoke, prey  to vivid recollections of the storm and the northern lights and holding her in  his arms, Fraser decided it must have been love – he just knew. He knew in his  heart. What else could it have been?</p>
<p>‘It ended… badly,’ Fraser said in conclusion.  ‘She had a… she had a darkness inside her. And the most beautiful voice, the  most beautiful voice you’ve ever heard.’</p>
<p>Finally, when he turned to his best friend,  seeking comfort or acknowledgment or indeed any kind of reaction, Fraser found  that Ray had fallen asleep and was safely oblivious.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>The following morning, Ray’s exquisite  mystery woman showed up at Frank Bodine’s apartment, and they had to face the  fact that she was the gun-runner’s partner in crime and possibly in romance. Ray  was, understandably, somewhat morose about this.</p>
<p>Trying to reassure him, Fraser said, ‘Anyone  can have a lapse in judgement, Ray.’</p>
<p>‘Ah, this is not a lapse, this is my life,  Fraser… This one – this woman, I would have bet my soul on.’</p>
<p>She’d come to the apartment in order to  successfully divert Ray and Fraser’s attention, so that Bodine could then  briefly return. It had worked – the two police officers had slid into Ray’s  Buick Riviera and followed her car for several blocks before they’d worked out  the situation. ‘You slow down, she’ll slow down,’ Fraser observed. ‘She has no  intention of losing you, Ray.’</p>
<p>‘You mean, she’s a decoy?’ Ray asked. ‘She  tricked us?’ he added, sounding a little happier. ‘<em>God</em>, why do I love that?’</p>
<p>It appeared that Frank Bodine was using his  contacts as a Guardsman to illicitly buy weapons. They tracked the man down to  his National Guard headquarters, and got close enough to their quarry for Ray’s  mystery woman to fire a shot at him…</p>
<p>Safely back at the police station, sitting  in the lunch room, Ray said, ‘She had the perfect shot, Fraser; she almost  killed me.’</p>
<p>‘No, she didn’t, Ray. She missed you by  seventeen centimeters.’ And Fraser proceeded to explain that with such an  accurate gun, and with such a good opportunity, she must have intended to miss.  Ray took this as a very positive sign, and began speculating about the woman’s  feelings… Fraser reminded him, ‘Ray, you’ve only known this woman for a few  seconds, while you had a concussion.’</p>
<p>‘It doesn’t matter, Fraser. Ten seconds,  ten years: chemistry is chemistry.’ The speculations proliferated. Then Ray  asked, ‘How often in a lifetime does this type of thing happen? I mean, has it  ever happened to you?’</p>
<p>Fraser was flummoxed. ‘Well, I…’ He wasn’t  about to try re-telling the sad story about Victoria under these circumstances.  ‘I…’</p>
<p>‘No, of course not,’ Ray said dismissively,  turning away. ‘You’re a Mountie. What does a Mountie know about women?’</p>
<p>Oh. Fraser stared at the man, wanting to  protest that was hardly fair. But he supposed Ray really didn’t know any  better.</p>
<p>Heartfelt as ever, Ray declared, ‘I think I’m  in love with her, Fraser.’</p>
<p>The two of them were gazing at each other  now, both of them raw. And that was when the similarities between his former  situation with Victoria, and Ray’s current one with this woman, belatedly  slammed into Fraser… Ray Vecchio had just fallen in love with a felon.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Fraser and Ray were soon back in the  Riviera, tracking the woman and Bodine via the signal of their cellular phone; it  appeared the couple were somewhere near Carpentersville, outside of Chicago. As  the two police officers drove through the autumnal farmland, Ray declared, ‘I  find her, I’ve got to arrest her, too, end of story.’</p>
<p>‘Well, yes,’ Fraser replied. The decision  was clear; as clear as it had been when Fraser made it himself.</p>
<p>‘Yeah,’ Ray said. He sounded glum, which  perhaps wasn’t unexpected. These matters were difficult.</p>
<p>They located the suspects in a farmhouse,  and split up to deal with them. Unfortunately the woman got away from Ray, and  Bodine eluded Fraser – the pair escaped in their army truck full of weapons.</p>
<p>Fraser went to find Ray, who was dragging  himself up off the kitchen floor. ‘Are you all right?’ Fraser asked.</p>
<p>Having managed to get to his knees, Ray  propped himself on the table, and felt gingerly at the back of his head. He  announced, ‘She kissed me.’</p>
<p>‘<em>After</em> she hit you?’</p>
<p>A sour glance. ‘I’m going to see her in  jail, Fraser, if it’s the last thing I do.’ The man was in pain, but he was not  in the mood for comfort. As they headed for the Riv and then chased after  Bodine and the woman, Ray expanded on his theme… ‘I want her, Fraser. I’m going  to put this chick away for a long time; she’ll be ninety before they let her  out. She won’t be able to do this to me anymore.’</p>
<p>And even while Fraser was checking the map  for their likely route, and reminding Ray to call for back-up, he couldn’t help  but reflect on Ray’s words. The choice was still clear, Ray must do his duty. And  yet – Ray sounded so… vindictive. Ugly. He sounded cruel as he described what  he would do, as he described what Fraser had done.</p>
<p>When it came to the crunch, the woman  overturned the truck rather than hurt Ray who was sheltering behind the Riviera  with Fraser – and then Ray offered to let her go rather than arrest her… And  she turned out to be Special Agent Suzanne Chapin of the Bureau of Alcohol,  Tobacco and Firearms.</p>
<p>‘They’re going to ask for my shield,  Fraser,’ Ray said. Understandably enough, he was dejected by the thought of  having wrecked his career.</p>
<p>Fraser found himself saying, ‘There were  mitigating circumstances, Ray.’</p>
<p>Ray remained bleak: the woman would report  him, and Welsh would dismiss him from the police force. Nevertheless, Ray  concluded, ‘I would have bet my soul on her.’</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Suzanne Chapin placed her faith in Ray, and  commended him in her report rather than condemned him, praising his hard work  and courage. Rather than frowning on the pair of them continuing to bend the  law for each other, Fraser found himself assisting the budding romance by  locating Ms. Chapin’s hotel, which enabled Ray to go visit her before she left  town… Once Ray had dashed off, Fraser made his way home alone, puzzling over  the situation.</p>
<p>It was a conundrum. Ray had made a  different decision to Fraser. Ray had faith enough in Suzanne to risk  everything and not arrest her, he chose love over duty – and he was vindicated.  Suzanne turned out to be a good-hearted law-abiding person, deserving of Ray’s  trust. And Fraser was left to wonder whether, if he’d placed his faith in  Victoria, would he also have been vindicated…? Would Victoria Metcalfe have  then proven herself worthy of his trust?</p>
<p>Perhaps not – there had been a darkness in  Victoria, something soul-deep that might never have opened itself up to the  light. Presumably Ray had sensed, in the intuitive way he had, that Suzanne  wasn’t afflicted with darkness; surely Ray’s instincts had indicated Suzanne  was trustworthy. He’d known. He’d just known.</p>
<p>Fraser had taken a photo of Victoria during  those four days they’d spent wandering aimlessly: he always kept a camera in  his pack to record crime scenes, which could not be preserved or even revisited  in the wilds as they could be in the city. He hadn’t looked at the photo in  years, but he fetched it out now from his box of mementoes, and contemplated  the obscured long-ago image of her…</p>
<p>There was no one on earth who could not be  redeemed: Fraser believed that whole-heartedly. Perhaps all Victoria had needed  was his faith, and she would have risen to meet his heightened expectations. Choosing  duty over love was beginning to seem a poor and mean-spirited decision.</p>
<p>Fraser’s ruminations were interrupted by a  knock at the door. When he opened it, much to his surprise he found Ray  standing there. The man was brimming over with contentment, and had never  appeared more handsome… While Fraser put coffee on to brew, Ray began  recounting how he’d kissed Suzanne, and how she’d left nevertheless, how she’d  looked back at him while being driven away. ‘That’s it, Fraser: that’s the  sign.’</p>
<p>‘What is, Ray?’</p>
<p>‘The look. She left me, but she left me for  the right reason. She loves me.’</p>
<p>This was all terribly confusing: Ray was  happy even though Suzanne had left him, while Fraser’s own heart was aching for  his friend’s loss. ‘But… she’s gone.’</p>
<p>‘Well, that’s what’s right for us. Maybe  some day it won’t be, but now it is.’</p>
<p>‘But you might never see each other again.’</p>
<p>‘Exactly! That’s what we need: ridiculous  odds, and just a speck of hope that some day we’ll beat them.’</p>
<p>Fraser frowned. If he’d chosen love over  duty, then he and Victoria would have cleaved together and never parted… ‘I can’t  say I understand that, Ray.’</p>
<p>‘Well, of course you don’t. You’re not too  swift with this stuff, are you, Fraser?’</p>
<p>Maybe he wasn’t, after all. He knew about  being a Mountie; he had very little experience in being a lover. Fraser  indulged a quiet sigh, poured the coffee, and handed one of the mugs over to  Ray who accepted it with no fuss. Their friendship had settled into an easy  give-and-take that Fraser was forever grateful for.</p>
<p>Fraser carried his own mug over to the  windows, and contemplated the street below as he let the fragrant steam of the  coffee waft up to his face. He really couldn’t understand why Ray had let  Suzanne go. Ray-in-love was all vibrancy and certainty and passion: surely  Suzanne would have found it difficult to leave him behind. And one of the  things Fraser had in common with Ray was that neither of them were good at  letting things or people go, not when they really mattered.</p>
<p>Speaking of which – there was something  vital missing from the streetscape below. In a slight panic, Fraser said, ‘Ray.  Where did you park the Riviera?’ Terrible, if it had been stolen in this  admittedly risky neighborhood. Fraser would never be allowed to forget the  matter.</p>
<p>‘Oh, I left the Riv at the hotel, and  walked here,’ Ray replied, remarkably off-handedly.</p>
<p>He’d left his beloved Riviera behind  unattended? Fraser turned to stare at the man as Ray came over to stand beside  him. Perhaps this bizarre behavior could be attributed to being in love. Fraser  suggested, ‘Why don’t I walk back with you, and we’ll retrieve it?’</p>
<p>Ray was silent, gazing down at the street  just as Fraser had done. Eventually he asked, ‘It’s not so inconceivable that  someone should fall in love with me, is it, Benny?’</p>
<p>And Fraser immediately felt awful for  questioning Ray’s cheerfulness. ‘No, of course not. Only that you should then  choose to be apart.’</p>
<p>‘Yeah,’ Ray muttered. ‘I get it.’ And he  seemed sad now. Fraser’s heart began aching for him all over again.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>It wasn’t inconceivable that someone should  love Ray, not at all. Fraser himself was half-in-love with Ray Vecchio, and had  been for months. It was a constant source of pleasure and amusement, to feel  this way for the man at his side, to feel this way for his best friend. Especially  when, Suzanne Chapin aside, Fraser suspected Ray felt much the same way for him  though the cop wasn’t conscious of it.</p>
<p>It had been so <em>easy</em>, so <em>natural</em> to fall  for Ray that Fraser hadn’t even noticed until it was already done. Ray had been  a revelation after a long hibernation, inevitably reawakening Fraser’s warmer  emotions. It was all quite inadvertent on Fraser’s part – but, of course, its  very simplicity made him hesitate. As his grandmother often said, the road to  hell is paved with easy choices. Which made this fledgling romance completely  inappropriate.</p>
<p>The problem for Fraser wasn’t that they  were both men – though he suspected that would be the problem for Ray. Perhaps  Ray’s obliviousness to the situation was because an Italian-American man, a  Catholic, a Chicago police officer would not consider homosexuality to be a  viable option. Maybe it never even occurred to Ray, even though his feelings  had already been partially engaged. To Fraser, love was love, and he saw little  purpose in differentiating between romantic partners on the basis of gender.</p>
<p>No, the problem for Fraser was that this  felt easy. Dangerously, sinfully easy…</p>
<p>The two men were walking through the city  streets, heading for the hotel where Ray had left his Riviera. And there was  nothing but cold night air between them. It would be so easy for Fraser to  bridge that gap, to slip his hand into Ray’s coat pocket and entwine their  fingers. Whenever this man was at his side, Fraser felt light-hearted… That was  so precious to him.</p>
<p>Maybe it was time to follow Ray’s example. He’d  chosen his love for Suzanne over duty, and then let her go because that was  right for them. Perhaps Fraser could acknowledge his love for Victoria, give it  credence for the first time in years; and then set his memories of her free. It  was time to put her behind him and concentrate on enjoying what he had here and  now.</p>
<p>Fraser suspected he could persuade Ray of  their mutual love: he’d persuaded him into many other risky endeavors. But –  yes, it would be so delightfully, frighteningly easy to be loved by this man. Which  meant… Well, Fraser wasn’t quite sure exactly what it meant. Only that there  would be something not quite wholesome about a pleasure so simply gained, there  would be something of true respect or commitment missing.</p>
<p>Recalling a quote from Thomas Paine  strengthened him: <em>The harder the  conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem  too lightly; it is dearness only that gives everything its value.</em></p>
<p>A moment’s hesitation, and the impulse to  reach across that gap began fading. Instead Fraser counted the blessings of  this friendship… And he was content.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Fraser was worried – he was wondering if he’d  been wrong to bring Diefenbaker to Chicago with him… The wolf had fallen for  the easy lifestyle available here, developing city-habits such as a taste for  junk food, running with destructive gangs of strays, and forever seeming out of  sorts. There were no longer any confidences shared between the wolf and the  human.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, a situation that started as  distasteful and frustrating soon became dangerous. Willie Lambert, a neighborhood  boy who was supposed to be minding Dief, set him free one morning to run the  streets with his motley friends – and then Diefenbaker bit an Animal Control  Officer while being taken into custody. Such violence wasn’t in the wolf’s  usual character, at least not without Dief having good reason or severe  provocation. Fraser could not understand the matter.</p>
<p>Having briefly visited Diefenbaker, who was  now locked up in the quarantine area of the Animal Control Centre, Fraser and  Ray returned to the foyer where Willie was waiting.</p>
<p>‘So, did you spring him?’ the boy asked.</p>
<p>‘No,’ Fraser adamantly said, ‘I can’t do  that, Willie. Diefenbaker’s broken the law; we have to let justice take its course.’</p>
<p>‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ When Fraser  indicated he wasn’t, Willie gathered Fraser and Ray into a private conference.  ‘The way I figure it, is that guy in there is really soft…’ Willie was  referring to the older Animal Control Officer. ‘So let’s just slip him a few  bucks.’</p>
<p>‘Good idea,’ said Ray.</p>
<p>Fraser stared at the police officer – his  partner – and the young man standing beside him. ‘That would be bribery,’ he  felt obliged to point out.</p>
<p>‘Right!’ the pair happily chorused.</p>
<p>‘Absolutely not.’ He had to be firm about  such matters, especially if Ray had decided to exercise his flexibility. ‘The  only way that we’re going to help Diefenbaker is to ensure that he receives a  fair hearing.’</p>
<p>‘Oh, come on, Fraser,’ Ray pleaded, ‘he bit  the guy. You saw him, I saw him; the wolf’s guilty.’</p>
<p>‘But what happened before we got there? There  could be extenuating circumstances, witnesses to those circumstances – we won’t  know this until we’ve completed our investigation.’</p>
<p>After a few more token protests, Ray agreed  to bring his detecting skills to the case, and Fraser and Ray began canvassing  the neighborhood. Unfortunately, they couldn’t find much evidence to offer the  judge when the matter came to trial; but Fraser felt that Diefenbaker’s  formerly sterling character and his exemplary law enforcement career would  speak for themselves.</p>
<p>Apparently Judge Sherman felt differently… The  hearing did not go well, despite Fraser’s best efforts. Summing up, the judge  said, ‘What you have here is a wild animal living in an apartment; who, by your  own admission, has bitten more than one individual, and is responsible for  killing at least one other animal. This is not Lassie.’ A long moment stretched  before Judge Sherman passed sentence. ‘I order that the animal be put to sleep.’</p>
<p>Ray and Willie were on their feet  protesting. But Fraser just stood there, stunned. He had put his trust in  following the law, and Diefenbaker was about to lose his life as a result. It  didn’t seem right, and yet… it was justice. And there was no appeal.</p>
<p>In those first moments he felt betrayed. The  law should have provided the right answer. And he also felt incredibly stupid. What  had he done? Choosing duty over love yet again, doomed to repeat the same  mistakes. When would he ever learn…?</p>
<p>For now, Fraser must put such doubts behind  him. Instead he found a brave face, and went to visit Dief in the barrenness of  the concrete quarantine room. Trying to make conversation, trying to reassure  the wolf that Ray was doing his best to help them, while Dief remained unimpressed,  Fraser soon faltered. After a moment he tried again: ‘You know I was thinking  today about that time you pulled me from the Sound, and, er, I know I never  really…’ Well, perhaps they had been through so much since then that a belated  thank-you was redundant.</p>
<p>Fraser leaned forward, elbows on his knees.  ‘You did <em>want</em> to come here, didn’t  you? I just took it for granted, I know we never really discussed it, but… I  would hate to think that you came here and stayed here all of this time just  out of some kind of misplaced sense of… duty. You wouldn’t do that, would you?’</p>
<p>Diefenbaker growled his don’t-be-silly, and  settled down.</p>
<p>‘No, I didn’t think you would.’ A relieved  Fraser offered to stay for the night – he’d brought his bed-roll especially –  but Dief seemed uninterested. Apparently he’d rather be alone. However, when  Fraser went to leave, the wolf began barking and jumping up against the far  wall, frantic about something. ‘Diefenbaker. What’s wrong?’</p>
<p>There was no reply.</p>
<p>‘All right,’ said Fraser, ‘I’m leaving now.’  Then it happened. As Fraser opened the door, Diefenbaker ran at him, determined  to force his way out. Fraser stood firm –</p>
<p>– and the wolf bit him. There was  blood on his left wrist.</p>
<p>Fraser hadn’t felt so badly shaken for a  long while. Because he realized he had no choice: there was a darkness, a  wildness in Diefenbaker that Fraser was required to deliver to justice. Even if  justice destroyed Dief, and broke Fraser’s heart.</p>
<p>He left the Animal Control Centre; in his  dismay, barely acknowledging the Officer’s farewell. Safely back home, he  cleaned and dressed the wound himself, and changed out of the bloodied grey  sweater.</p>
<p>When Fraser finally arrived at the police  station, he found that Ray was still on the phone, calling every judge he knew  in Chicago. The man was kind and encouraging, knowing that Fraser’s closest  companion was due to be put down in the morning. Fraser assumed Ray wouldn’t be  so kind if he knew the wolf had bitten his own human guardian… Indeed, Fraser  was beginning to feel that the encouragement was out of place: it seemed the  judgement had been a fair one after all. The long sleeves of Fraser’s woolen  sweater hid his bandaged wrist quite well.</p>
<p>Willie complicated matters by breaking into  the Centre, and rescuing Dief. The two of them then ran away: apparently Willie’s  idea was to release the wolf in the wilds of Canada. But it seemed that  Diefenbaker had other plans.</p>
<p>Fraser collected his father’s rifle, having  asked Ray to purchase cartridges. All compassion, Ray gently offered, ‘Why don’t  you let me do this for you?’</p>
<p>‘No,’ Fraser firmly replied, though for a  moment he’d had a tear in his eye. ‘He’s my wolf.’ And the two law enforcement  officers set off after the rogue animal.</p>
<p>When they finally caught up with  Diefenbaker, however, an explanation for the wolf’s behavior was finally  forthcoming. Dief had formed an attachment to a husky named Maggie, and she was  currently bearing his pups… ‘You know, you could have told me about this,’  Fraser said to Dief. ‘It’s not as though we’re complete strangers.’ And he  confided, ‘I think she seems to be a very good choice.’</p>
<p>What Fraser had feared was darkness now  dissolved in the light of knowledge – Dief was anxious over becoming a parent,  protective of his chosen mate, discreet in his adventures with the opposite  sex… Dief was in love. And love was a very disorienting emotion.</p>
<p>As much to his own surprise as everyone  else’s, Ray managed to save the wolf from the demands of the law enforcement  system. After calling every judge he thought might help, all to no avail, Ray  eventually went to visit one named Powell. While Fraser had never been  privileged to hear the whole story, it seemed Ray had driven the man quite mad  for a while. In return for Ray’s sincere promise never to bother him again, Justice  Powell issued a stay of execution pending a psychiatric evaluation. From there  it was a trip to one of Ray’s innumerable cousins who specialized in the rather  bizarre field of pet therapy, and Diefenbaker was a free wolf.</p>
<p>Fraser was left to reflect that justice had  been served in the larger picture, if not exactly in the detail… But he had  chosen loyalty and love over the strictness of duty for once, and he couldn’t  feel that he’d been wrong. Well, not <em>entirely</em> wrong, anyway.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>The women of Chicago – and many of the men –  were voracious and persistent in their pursuit of Benton Fraser, who found the  situation rather bemusing. Fraser decided early on that the most considerate  and indeed the most efficient response was utter obliviousness at best and total  confusion at worst. He wasn’t immune to their many charms, though, not at all.</p>
<p>When Mrs Tammy Markel grabbed his <em>derriere</em>, his body responded… When a  young man pressed his entire self up against Fraser every time their standing-room-only  bus braked or cornered, his temperature rose… When Elaine Besbriss smiled at  him, he almost gave her his true smile in return… When a hundred different  receptionists and witnesses and shop attendants made deliberate display of  their chests and cleavages, waists and biceps, thighs and ankles, he found them  all delightfully provocative… When Maggie’s owner, Jackie Alexander, cooked  dinner for him, he reveled in the domesticity… When Francesca Vecchio asked him  for sex, he was tempted to let her bold approach overwhelm his good sense…</p>
<p>Fraser wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t fall  in love with Francesca. It wasn’t simply that he was already half-in-love with  her brother. She was as attractive, as clever, as direct, as colorful as Ray –  but she wasn’t Ray. Sharing Francesca’s life would be exciting, certainly not  peaceful. Challenging – but not difficult. Perhaps that was once more the  problem: it would be so easy to let Francesca have her way. But he suspected  that he wouldn’t do her justice as her husband. Too easy to simply love her,  and to enjoy her, and to esteem her too lightly. For she deserved, as did he,  the kind of soul-deep connection he’d only ever found with Victoria.</p>
<p>When it came to suitable temperaments  perhaps Elaine would be a wiser choice – but, again, it would be too easy to  love her. These women were worth more than that. Elaine and Francesca deserved  the true commitment of a fiercely unconditional love that flourished against  all the odds; not the mere gratification of emotional and physical desires,  however warm and fond. His thinking wasn’t entirely clear on this point,  perhaps due to a lack of experience, and Fraser knew that logic didn’t always  assist in these matters. But there was an easy kind of love and a difficult  kind of love; and, no matter how genuinely he felt for these women, he would  only ever be able to offer them second-best.</p>
<p>It became obvious to Fraser that after all  this time of not giving such matters another thought, he was looking. His heart  was available. He was, as Ray might say, on the market. Victoria Metcalfe was…  so long ago. She had been of great significance to his twenty-three-year-old  self, of course, but ten years later it was time to discover whether there was  someone else he could love. Someone he could love unconditionally despite every  difficulty.</p>
<p>Fraser was grateful to Ray for unknowingly  forcing Fraser to remember, to re-examine, and then to resume his life.</p>
<p>Ray himself, always at Fraser’s side, was…  stirring. A commendable human being in every way. Delightful. Sexual.</p>
<p>Deadly. Ray Vecchio: the man who could deal  with Frank Zuko, when even the Mountie had tried and failed. Logic and reason  weren’t always the answers even in law enforcement, Fraser discovered. Ray’s  strength and courage were forever admirable. Added to which, Fraser had seen,  all too briefly as they’d chased Suzanne Chapin, that Ray-in-love was a  beautiful phenomenon.</p>
<p>What a pity that it would be wrong for  Fraser to try… Reaching for guidance, Fraser recalled two verses from Matthew  that his grandmother had often quoted: <em>Enter  by the narrow gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to  destruction, and there are many who go in by it. Because narrow is the gate and  difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it.</em></p>
<p>The way which leads to life. <em>That</em> was where Fraser would also find  love.</p>
<p>Fraser did not agree with Jack Huey that  there were two-million women or men out there with whom he could be happy. Or,  if there were, it seemed that none of them happened to be in Chicago. None of  them had been in Canada, either, with one notable exception. Perhaps he  expected too much, but Fraser had to suspect there were far fewer candidates on  his list of potential mates. Far fewer than two-million.</p>
<p>Right now, of course, he’d settle for  meeting one.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>‘Ray,’ Fraser said late one night as they  sat in his apartment, each nursing a mug of coffee.</p>
<p>‘Yeah?’</p>
<p>‘How did you know that Suzanne Chapin didn’t  have a darkness in her?’</p>
<p>Ray scrunched his face up, and said, ‘What?’</p>
<p>‘How did you know she was a good person?’</p>
<p>‘I just knew.’ The man shrugged, and  settled back into his exhausted slump. He just knew.</p>
<p>Fraser persisted. ‘But <em>how</em> did you know?’</p>
<p>‘I had a hunch.’ After a moment Ray glanced  at him, and realized that Fraser wanted more. ‘You want details? I don’t do  details; I do hunches.’ Nevertheless, Ray grimaced and put some effort into  remembering. Finally he said, ‘You know that time she hit me and knocked me  out?’</p>
<p>‘Yes.’</p>
<p>‘She apologized first.’</p>
<p>‘Ah.’ Fraser nodded. That was indeed  indicative of decency.</p>
<p>‘And, you know what? I wasn’t out  completely cold – kind of like I was out ninety-nine percent. The thing is, I  don’t think she just let me drop. I think she actually hung on, and made sure I  got to the floor OK.’</p>
<p>‘Ah.’</p>
<p>‘That what you wanted?’</p>
<p>‘Yes, Ray.’ Fraser smiled at the man, and  decided not to satisfy Ray’s curiosity over why he’d asked in the first place.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Miss Katherine Burns had been impossible. In  fact, she was so impossible that Fraser had given serious consideration to  falling in love with her. There was no point in squandering unconditional love  on anyone it would be <em>easy</em> to love,  after all.</p>
<p>Impossible. With her tendency not to listen  to anything other than her own commentary, and her almost constant  obliviousness to anyone other than herself. With her idiosyncratic and somewhat  skewed worldview. With her jealous and violent fiancé – her ex-fiancé now – and  his henchmen. With her contrary style of logic which Fraser found impossible to  argue with. With her beauty which Fraser found thoroughly beguiling… He was  frustrated with her, he was fascinated by her; Fraser was never once  indifferent to her. And she professed herself in love with him.</p>
<p>Towards the end of the bizarre day they  inadvertently spent together, Fraser and Katherine were riding in the back of a  garbage truck that had been commandeered by persons unknown; she in her  formerly-white wedding dress, and he in his dress reds. And it seemed Fraser  had made an impression on her – she became quite annoyed with him, and  demanded, ‘Were you always so good and honorable and perfect and…’</p>
<p>Fraser didn’t reply, having become  distracted by a loose thread hanging from one of his uniform’s brass buttons.</p>
<p>‘Oh, just yank it off,’ was her impatient  advice.</p>
<p>‘The button might fall off.’</p>
<p>‘It’s a button, take a risk!’</p>
<p>‘All right!’ he responded, a little  affronted by her challenge. But his caution was vindicated when the button went  flying off into the garbage. ‘Hah!’</p>
<p>‘Oh,’ she said, having the grace to look  somewhat chagrined. And amused. ‘Don’t you ever do anything reckless or stupid  or wild?’</p>
<p>‘No.’ He thought about it, started to say  something, but then changed his mind. The honest answer was, ‘No.’</p>
<p>‘I guess that’s what first attracted me to  Nigel. He was just so… dangerous.’</p>
<p>‘I can see how you’d find that exciting,’  he commented.</p>
<p>And after Katherine had told her story,  Fraser repaid her trust by confiding in her. ‘I thought I was in love once.’ As  he spoke, he recalled how he’d rationalized it away all those years ago. ‘And  then later I thought maybe it was just an inner ear imbalance. We spent an  evening snowed in on the side of a mountain, watching the northern lights. It  was probably the most dramatic moment of my life. But in the end, I realized I’d  learned two things. The first is that it’s easier to think you’re in love than  it is to accept that you’re alone. And the second is that it’s very easy to  confuse love with subatomic particles bursting in the air. Well,’ he added to  make her smile, ‘I also learned I should have my ears checked more regularly.’</p>
<p>Katherine said, ‘It’s funny the things that  attract you to somebody.’ She was looking at him very directly, and he didn’t  look away. And she kissed him…</p>
<p>The snowstorm on Fortitude Pass receded  even further. <em>This</em> was more real,  these warm willing lips were more real to him than the distant memories that  had been briefly stirred up by Ray’s love for Suzanne.</p>
<p>Of course, it all came to nothing. The  romance between Fraser and Katherine had been a whim, an adventure, a waltz. He’d  been alone, and except for Ray Vecchio he was alone now; thinking of falling in  love was not the solution.</p>
<p>But Fraser was on the right path again, at  least. To be loved by Ray Vecchio would be sinfully blissfully easy; while to  be loved by Katherine Burns would have been… a perverse trial.</p>
<p>In Fraser’s absence, Ray had put on Fraser’s  spare dress uniform, and filled in as doorman for him at the Consulate. Ray was  the truest friend a man could have, and Fraser was certainly still half-in-love  with him. And the world was a wide place, full of opportunities…</p>
<p>♦</p><h2>PART THREE: VICTORIA</h2>
<p>She began haunting him. Fraser saw her on  the streets of Chicago. One moment he was walking along a busy city sidewalk  with Ray at his side; the next there was Victoria Metcalfe amidst the crowd,  with her unmistakable fall of long dark hair, her beautiful frown as she looked  up at the dull sky… On another day he was with Dief in the park near his  apartment; and he was caught by glimpses of her between the straggling trees as  she wandered by. Each time he ran after her, but she escaped him. He would have  sworn an oath that it was her. And it wasn’t impossible, for her jail term  would have recently completed; though what a wonderful coincidence that she  would come to the place where Fraser was, far from his home and far from hers.</p>
<p>Each time he saw her, his heart slammed  into an alarming rate of beats per minute, and he wasn’t able to calm himself  again for hours… Inner ear imbalance indeed, he scoffed at himself: this is  love. ‘It wasn’t her,’ he would say to Dief, who seemed rather dismissive of  the whole thing. ‘It wasn’t her.’ Trying to convince himself more than the  wolf.</p>
<p>When he imagined her, when he imagined this  apparition of Victoria turning back and facing him, she asked him, ‘Why?’ over  and over again, her face a study in sadness and genuine confusion and grief. ‘Why?’  This was, of course, what he asked himself. Why on earth had he sent the woman  he loved to jail for ten years? ‘Why?’ How heartless he must be to do such a  cruel thing…</p>
<p>He went to Father Behan for guidance. The  priest was taking confessions; and though Fraser had never been in a  confessional before, it seemed an ideal place, indeed the only place for this  conversation.</p>
<p>Fraser said, ‘I’m not really sure if I saw  her, or I just wanted to see her. Maybe I saw her because she’s the one person  I can’t face.’</p>
<p>‘Why?’ asked Behan.</p>
<p>‘Because of a decision I made.’</p>
<p>‘Came back to haunt you, so to speak.’</p>
<p>‘Yes.’</p>
<p>‘Son, I’m a Catholic from Belfast. And any  good decision there is usually wrong. Each one’s impossible. But you still have  to make them, and learn to live with it, and then try to forgive yourself.’</p>
<p>That was indeed the case: neither choice  would have been a good one; arresting her, or letting her go. An impossible  situation. But Fraser suspected that letting her go would have been a  marginally better decision, for his own sake as well as hers. The guilt of  turning her over to the authorities was too much to bear; so much so that he’d  been repressing it within him all this time.</p>
<p>After he left Father Behan and St Michael’s,  Fraser went to a diner, knowing that he should eat though he wasn’t hungry.</p>
<p>The ghost of his father was sitting  opposite him in the booth… ‘You did the right thing,’ Robert Fraser advised. ‘You  did your duty. That’s all you could have done.’</p>
<p>Benton disagreed. ‘She’s the only woman I  ever loved; I put her in prison. Duty is a poor excuse.’</p>
<p>‘Well, she was a criminal, you had no  choice but to bring her to justice.’</p>
<p>‘She really had no choice,’ Benton tried to  explain, making excuses for her that she’d never made for herself. ‘She was  living with the man who planned the robbery, it was a very desperate situation.’</p>
<p>His father remained implacable. ‘I’m sure  the judge took that into account, that’s his job. Your job was to bring her in.’</p>
<p>And then finally there she was: not an  apparition, not his imagination. Victoria Metcalfe literally bumped into Fraser  as he was leaving the diner and she was coming in. ‘Hi,’ she said brightly,  breathlessly.</p>
<p>‘Hi,’ he responded, feeling buffaloed.</p>
<p>She looked like a million dollars: her hair  was long and shiny and curly; her make-up was flawless on her beautiful face; she  was graced by a long dark fur coat; and when she smiled, Fraser’s heart once  more slammed into too high a gear. ‘I never thought I’d see you again,’ she  said, her smile fading as she contemplated the empty future she’d envisioned. Her  eyes were eating him up, drinking him in, and he was sure his were doing the  same to her…</p>
<p>‘Neither did I.’</p>
<p>Suddenly Fraser remembered how long it had  been since he’d last eaten, and his appetite returned with a vengeance. He and  Victoria agreed haltingly, eagerly, to share a meal – the first real meal they’d  ever eaten together – and Fraser led her back into the diner.</p>
<p>As the minutes passed he became better able  to pay attention to details. The dark grape chenille sweater, and the black she  wore, suited her Snow White coloring. She was perfect, exquisite, even though  he could trace the lines and blemishes of ten years’ hard labor: Victoria was  no longer a fresh-faced twenty-three-year-old, and neither was he; Fraser  thought maturity suited them both. She talked of heading for Dallas or Austin –  some place warm – and he wanted nothing more or less than that she stay in  Chicago. With him.</p>
<p>‘I’m glad I got a chance to see you,’ she  said in farewell. ‘You look great.’</p>
<p>And then she was walking away from him, she  was almost to the door. Fraser quickly turned towards her. ‘Victoria. Can I see  you again?’</p>
<p>Softening, she asked, ‘When?’</p>
<p>‘Now.’</p>
<p>She walked all the way back to where he sat,  and she faltered, ‘Isn’t there someone – Don’t you have someone now?’</p>
<p>‘There’s never been anyone but you,’ he  replied, raw.</p>
<p>They went back to his place, she cooked for  him that evening, and then they watched the television Fraser had borrowed from  Mr. Mustafi. They’d lit a hundred, a thousand candles and scattered them  throughout his poor apartment. Victoria’s face, her expression was open to him  in ways that reminded him of Fortitude Pass. The few times he’d seen her at the  jail or in court, the face she’d shown him had been closed, cold, brittle. Now  she set every emotion free, her eyes were completely candid, and even her  posture turned to him like a flower to the sun… In fact, the sheer mobility of  her expression fleetingly reminded him of Ray, and that in itself made Fraser  feel comfortable. Her anger, Victoria’s fine anger had been blunted over the  years into resignation, acceptance; that was the most obvious change in her. Fraser  found he mourned the loss.</p>
<p>‘This is my favorite movie,’ she said as  they lay next together in front of the silent television. ‘I’ve always wanted  to be Eve Kendall.’</p>
<p>‘But she sends Cary Grant to be killed.’</p>
<p>‘She had no choice,’ Victoria explained.</p>
<p>‘Oh.’</p>
<p>Afterwards he walked her back to her hotel,  and she said, ‘I had a great time.’</p>
<p>‘So did I.’</p>
<p>He’d so wanted to kiss her, he’d been  wanting to kiss her all evening, but it seemed horribly presumptuous. Surely  the best thing he could do for her right now was to be her friend, to offer her  his blessing as she began her new life without him. He had done the wrong thing  by her last time; he was hesitant about doing <em>anything</em> now.</p>
<p>Fraser reached home again, took his time  blowing out all the candles, and settled to watch the end of the movie on his  own, trying to quell the restless feeling of dissatisfaction, of abandonment,  of loneliness.</p>
<p>There was a knock at the door. Another  knock…</p>
<p>…and she was there. Upset. Almost crying. ‘Did  you think we could just pretend that it didn’t happen?’</p>
<p>He closed his eyes, and bowed his head,  having no answer.</p>
<p>‘How could you do it?’ The question he’d  been dreading at last released her righteous fury. ‘How could you <em>do</em> that to me?’ She strode in, she  shoved him back against the wall.</p>
<p>Letting her anger wash through him, cast  passive there, he knew that he was lost. He loved her. He pushed himself  upright, he stepped towards her, he gathered her gently into his arms.</p>
<p>‘How could you do it?’ she demanded again,  her fists beating ineffectually at his shoulders.</p>
<p>He encompassed her, loving her, not wanting  either of them to be hurt any further.</p>
<p>‘No,’ she protested, trying to keep hold of  her anger, struggling not to surrender.</p>
<p>‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, <em>meaning</em> it, hands at last caressing her  through the fur coat and her bounteous hair.</p>
<p>And they kissed. They kissed, and the  hunger was as passionate as her anger had been. Fraser swung the door shut, and  the two of them spun clumsily towards his bed, kissing as if they would devour  each other.</p>
<p>It was going to happen; Benton Fraser was  about to lose his virginity and join with another human being. Join with his  love. As they lay there on the narrow bunk, for the moment too involved in  simply being together to bother shedding their clothes, Fraser thought to  reassure her. ‘Victoria,’ he murmured as her mouth pressed hotly against his  throat, ‘there’s been no one but you.’</p>
<p>She drew away a little to look at him, a  smile hovering, a doubtful frown settling. ‘You’re asking me to be gentle with  you?’</p>
<p>He smiled, too, and even blushed a little.  ‘I’m telling you that I’m safe.’</p>
<p>‘Oh.’ A moment passed, as she tucked her  head in against his shoulder again. ‘Well,’ she eventually said, ‘it’s been a  long time since Ed…’</p>
<p>Which reminded him yet again that he’d  destroyed ten years of her life. Both their lives. She was in a high risk  group, having been a prisoner with all the associated problems of drug use and  unprotected sex: but he trusted her sense of honor, at least in regard to him.</p>
<p>There were other reasons to use a condom,  however. ‘Perhaps we should use some form of prevention in any case,’ he  whispered against her hair.</p>
<p>‘Are you saying,’ she began in a wryly  amused tone, ‘that you and I should never even consider bringing a spark of  life into this world?’ And Victoria rose up onto her elbows, and gazed down at  him. ‘Are we that hopeless?’</p>
<p>‘No,’ he said, his voice rough, charmed by  her, no matter how ill-advised such a result might be.</p>
<p>She began stripping him naked, and he felt  no embarrassment, no shame, no worry. He was nervous, yes, but he was so  utterly certain. He lay there quietly; surrendering to her in <em>this</em> moment and then in <em>this</em> moment, too. It was easy, finally; no  more regrets, no more confusion. At the very last moment before it happened, as  a brief stillness settled over them, as he gazed up at her in serious wonder  and she mirrored his awe, he pleaded, ‘Be gentle with me.’ She laughed,  delighted, and took him inside herself. And at last they truly became two-made-one.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Three days. Three days, Fraser spent alone  with Victoria in his apartment, making love so often that he ached from it, and  still they were both insatiable. It was as if they were snowed in again,  isolated from the rest of the world, trapped in a limbo of their own choosing. Fraser  only left so that he could use Mr. Mustafi’s phone to call in to the Consulate  requesting a leave of absence, to order a delivery of pizza, to ask Willie to  bring him a bag of groceries. Victoria didn’t leave once. They barely even left  the bed for hours at a time.</p>
<p>The pleasure of it was intense,  unfathomable, bruising, wonderful. They learned everything about each other  that they could.</p>
<p>Ray showed up the first morning, worried  enough to consider kicking the door in: he assumed that for the Mountie to miss  work, Fraser must be desperately ill. It didn’t take long for Ray to deduce what  Fraser’s absence was actually caused by… The man’s reaction seemed to reduce  the whole affair to something approaching crudeness, but Fraser couldn’t fault  Ray’s enthusiasm. And, really, his concern and then his support were heart-warming.</p>
<p>Fraser gazed at this man he’d been half-in-love  with, somewhat taken aback to realize he hadn’t once thought of Ray since,  well, since Victoria had begun haunting him. But perhaps that was inevitable…</p>
<p>As soon as Ray had left, Fraser and  Victoria immediately returned to bed.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>The next time Ray visited, it was four o’clock  on Saturday morning, and the lovers had been asleep. Understandably, though he  wouldn’t admit it, Ray was upset over Fraser missing a party Ray had arranged  for Friday night. Fraser’s apology did not appease Ray; soon Fraser’s best  friend was leaving in a huff.</p>
<p>Fraser quickly began dragging on some  clothes.</p>
<p>‘I’m sorry,’ Victoria said.</p>
<p>‘It’s not your fault,’ Fraser assured her. He  grabbed his Stetson, and said to her, ‘Don’t go anywhere,’ before he ran out  the door.</p>
<p>Fraser caught up with the Riviera at a  traffic light. ‘I’m sorry, Ray,’ he said.</p>
<p>‘Yeah,’ was the unimpressed response.</p>
<p>‘It’s just that I made a mistake once, and  I can’t make it again.’ This was difficult, but of course Ray deserved the  heartfelt truth. ‘There are certain things that you’d live to regret in your  life, and losing your friendship would be one of them. And losing her –’</p>
<p>He didn’t have the words. But then Fraser  heard something that demanded their immediate attention.</p>
<p>‘Gunshot.’</p>
<p>Fraser ran back into his apartment to find  Victoria gone, the furniture overturned, Diefenbaker shot… And it all got worse  from there.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Fraser found Victoria at her hotel early  the next morning, panicking and preparing to leave Chicago. Her old partner  Jolly had escaped from prison, and Jolly was assuming that Victoria had the  money they’d stolen from the bank.</p>
<p>As she haltingly told Fraser half the  story, Victoria explained, ‘I’m not exactly a trusting person; people tend to  let me down.’</p>
<p>‘Not this time,’ he quietly vowed. For he  loved her.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Jolly was discovered, shot dead.</p>
<p>That night, after the initial investigation  was over, Fraser returned home to find Victoria waiting for him. She readily  admitted to killing Jolly, but fearing a return to jail she wouldn’t turn  herself over to the authorities. ‘Have you ever been in prison?’ she pleaded. ‘Do  you have any idea what it’s like to watch your whole life go by, to watch  everything you want go away, and know that you can never get it back?’</p>
<p>‘You can’t run away from this,’ Fraser  said.</p>
<p>‘Why not?’</p>
<p>‘I promise you I will do everything, I mean <em>everything</em> in my power to help you.’ He  had never made such a solemn oath.</p>
<p>‘You won’t go away?’ she asked, lightly,  though it meant the world to her.</p>
<p>‘Never. I won’t let you down.’</p>
<p>‘Not this time.’ She had that deadly look  in her eye.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>But Victoria disappeared again… And there  was no trace of her, not even any fingerprints at Fraser’s apartment.</p>
<p>Robert Fraser showed up to offer his  advice. ‘She’s not coming back, son.’</p>
<p>‘You don’t know her.’</p>
<p>‘Neither do you.’</p>
<p>Benton turned on him. ‘Did you know Mum?’  he demanded. ‘I mean, did you know who she really was, or did you know who you  wanted her to be?’</p>
<p>They argued, for perhaps the first time  since Benton was a child. ‘She deserved better,’ his father concluded. ‘Your  mother deserved better.’</p>
<p>‘No, she didn’t! She deserved <em>you</em>.’ Benton said, ‘I’m not going to  make the same mistake. Victoria is in trouble. Now, she scares the hell out of  me, I don’t even know if I can help her, but I know that I need to be here. And  I know who she is.’ Indeed, he knew her better than he’d ever known any woman.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>She was setting him up. It soon became  obvious that Victoria Metcalfe was setting Benton Fraser up for the biggest  fall of his life. She’d planted a significant amount of the bank money at his  father’s cabin in Canada, and had also slipped a number of stolen bills into  his wallet. She’d shot Jolly with Fraser’s gun, so Fraser was soon under  investigation for corruption and under arrest for murder… And Ray had been  implicated in all this, too, because Fraser had innocently passed some of the  money to him. To exacerbate the situation, Victoria was officially considered  dead, and the guilt therefore seemed to belong only to Fraser.</p>
<p>Ray mortgaged his family home in order to  make Fraser’s bail. ‘You can’t do that, Ray,’ Fraser protested. ‘It’s too much.’</p>
<p>‘Are you gonna skip on me?’</p>
<p>It was a rhetorical question; even so,  Fraser immediately and honestly answered, ‘No.’</p>
<p>‘Then there’s nothing to worry about.’ And  Ray sounded so utterly certain. He was the best friend Fraser had ever had.</p>
<p>‘You should take the deal,’ Fraser advised  him once Ray had driven Fraser home. There was no point in Ray’s career  suffering any further for Fraser’s sake.</p>
<p>‘I haven’t been offered one.’</p>
<p>Fraser looked at him, knowing how these  things worked. ‘You should take it anyway,’ he said, before opening the Riviera’s  door.</p>
<p>‘Hey, Benny.’ Ray waited until Fraser  turned to him again, before vowing, ‘Not in your lifetime.’</p>
<p>A moment passed between them, born of  Fraser’s love and Ray’s faith. But of course everything was too complicated  now, and in any case Fraser loved Victoria, he had pledged himself completely  to her. And she had… gone.</p>
<p>Fraser lit every candle in his apartment in  an effort to summon her. ‘She’s not coming back to you,’ his father announced.  ‘And why in God’s name would you want her to?’</p>
<p>‘Because,’ Benton replied. ‘Because I… Because  I need…’ But he couldn’t force the words past the tears. ‘Oh God.’</p>
<p>‘You’re not going to get it. Sometimes in  life all you need is that second chance, and that’s the one thing you’re not  going to have.’</p>
<p>The summons worked, in a way: she called  him on Mr. Mustafi’s phone. She told him where he could meet her.</p>
<p>‘You must really hate me for what I did,’  he said to her as they faced each other. Her expression, once mobile and full  of warmth, was now closed and cold, hard and drawn.</p>
<p>‘Yeah. Hate. Love. Those two emotions about  cover it.’</p>
<p>The tears were threatening again. ‘What do  you want, Victoria?’</p>
<p>‘You.’</p>
<p>‘No, you don’t,’ he said as gently as he  could.</p>
<p>‘Why do you think I did all this?’</p>
<p>‘Revenge.’</p>
<p>‘Maybe. But I <em>need</em> you.’ And she meant it, or at least thought she did. ‘I want  you to go away with me.’</p>
<p>‘You know I can’t do that.’</p>
<p>‘Why not? You don’t have much to stick  around here for. And you won’t like prison.’</p>
<p>‘I’m sorry,’ he said, turning her down.</p>
<p>‘I’m sorry, too.’</p>
<p>But she wanted him to exchange her money,  traceable due to its sequential serial numbers, for diamonds. And if he didn’t,  she’d tell Internal Affairs about a key in Ray’s house, a key that would lead  them to more of the money, a key that would implicate Ray even further in this  awful mess.</p>
<p>Fraser turned the Vecchio home inside out  while looking for that key. And at last he saw it in a snowglobe. He held the  globe in his hands, watching the snow fall within the perfect isolation of the  glass sphere, the purity of this self-contained little world. Victoria had come  here intending to systematically destroy him – and then, as trapped by the love  as Fraser was, she instead began destroying everyone and everything that tied  him to Chicago, so he’d have no choice but to go with her, he’d have less than  nothing to stay for… If she hadn’t tried to destroy Ray Vecchio as part of her  plans, perhaps Benton Fraser would have let her succeed.</p>
<p>He let the globe slip through his fingers  to smash on the floor, and then he crouched to carefully pick up the key from  the midst of the water and the broken glass.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>From then on Fraser worked on setting  Victoria up: he undertook the exchange for the diamonds, and he arranged for  Ray to meet him and Victoria at the train station so that the Detective could  arrest her.</p>
<p>With his and Ray’s and Victoria’s and Dief’s  lives in the balance, he had no time to cope with any distractions. When a lady  approached him because her purse had been stolen, asking, ‘Can you help me,  please?’ he was forced to reply, ‘No, ma’am, I’m afraid I can’t.’ His  priorities had rarely been so cruelly demanding.</p>
<p>Everything went according to his hastily  sketched plans… He and Victoria faced each other on the train platform as the  train slowly began pulling out. The diamonds were scattered across the  concrete, lost to her, and Victoria held Ray’s back-up gun on him. ‘You son of  a bitch, you set me up – I should have shot you!’</p>
<p>He offered her the truth, the hard-learned  truth. ‘And I should have let you go.’</p>
<p>‘Well, you’re going to this time,’ she told  him. And she climbed up onto the train, and Fraser was standing alone there on  the platform, and Victoria was on the train pulling away from the station, and  she cried out to him, ‘Ben, come with me!’</p>
<p>He stared at her, overwhelmed by visceral  memories of ten years of loneliness, of repression, of bitterness.</p>
<p>‘Come with me! You’re gonna regret it if  you don’t.’</p>
<p>Ray appeared on the far side of the  platform, with his colleagues.</p>
<p>Fraser glanced at them. This was the crux  of the matter, his second chance, his last opportunity to make a different  decision. He began running after the train. If his love wanted to destroy him,  so be it. Victoria stretched her hand out towards him, and he reached out to  her. No matter how fast Fraser ran, Ray was keeping pace with him…</p>
<p>…but at last he caught up to her, and leapt  onto the train and into her arms.</p>
<p>In that very moment something slammed into  his back, and a shot rang out, and Fraser’s body went horribly numb. His legs  would no longer support him. He added it up even as he was falling, stunned,  collapsing back to the train platform. The train was leaving, and Victoria with  it. And Ray had shot him.</p>
<p>The cold was terrible. ‘I should be with  her,’ he said to Ray as the man leaned over him. Willing the snow away, Fraser  somehow found the long-ago memory of words he’d barely been conscious of at the  time. <em>I caught this morning morning’s  minion, kingdom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon</em>… But the  darkness hidden inside of him began seeping, spreading through him borne by the  night’s cold, until he feared there was room for nothing else.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>He was angry. Benton Fraser was righteously  furiously angry. And it took him a while to realize he was angry at himself,  for he spent a long ignoble time taking it out on Ray, who stuck so close to  him, who was so loyal and persistent a friend.</p>
<p>Fraser was angry that he’d lost his love; he  should be with her, in every moment that passed he knew he should be with her. Somehow,  at the exact same time, he was also angry that he’d decided at the last minute  to go with her, and neglect all duty, all honor, all respect. He was of course  furious with his invalid’s body, and the slow progress it was making towards  health. He was even angry that Ray was so forbearing, and wouldn’t once tell  Fraser off for breaking his promise and attempting to skip bail. He was angry  that his best friend had shot him, that was a simple enough truth. And he was  angry with Victoria, for not… for not taking him with her regardless. He was  angry with himself.</p>
<p>It felt good, this anger. It felt pure. Fierce.  For a long while Fraser feasted on bitterness.</p>
<p>But eventually Benton Fraser forgave Ray,  and forgave himself, and decided he’d better get on with his life even though  his love was gone. His expectations and his hopes and his joys, however, felt  as if they were forever blighted. It was as if part of him, one of the best  parts of him, had died.</p>
<p>♦</p><h2>PART FOUR: 1995</h2>
<p>Sooner than he could have believed  possible, Fraser fell half-in-love all over again. The object of his affections  was impossible in two vital ways: she was his superior officer; and, while he  suspected she was attracted to him, too, she kept her feelings as tightly  reined-in as he did. Despite this – or, perhaps more accurately, because of it –  Inspector Meg Thatcher delighted him. And he delighted her so much that she was  determined to chastise him at every opportunity, and fire him or send him back  to Canada, and indeed do <em>anything</em> rather than admit she yearned for him… Benton Fraser understood that well  enough.</p>
<p>As for Ray Vecchio, he and Fraser seemed  closer than ever. They hadn’t really talked about Victoria and the chaos she’d  caused, but the experience – or perhaps the shared aftermath – had somehow  brought them together rather than torn them apart. In the months of Fraser’s  recovery, Ray had demonstrated his loyalty again and again: taking a bullet for  Fraser; saving their lives after a plane crash in the wilds of Canada; risking  drowning in order to foil a bank robbery. When Ray was thrown into jail for  contempt of court simply because he was standing on his principles, Fraser felt  the least he could do was assist and protect the man, even though that involved  the Mountie earning himself a criminal record, and joining Ray in jail.</p>
<p>Victoria had been correct: Fraser didn’t  like prison, though naturally enough he made the best of the experience.</p>
<p>Of course, no matter how honorable the  motives behind it, the incident did not look good on Fraser’s personnel file,  especially after all the suspicions against him raised by the Victoria Metcalfe  affair… Fraser expected Inspector Thatcher to deal harshly and irrevocably with  him and with his career.</p>
<p>She had asked him to make everything easier  for her by requesting a transfer back home to Canada. Of course the ghost of  Robert Fraser was enthusiastic about the idea, and immediately began discussing  the pros and cons of various postings. Fraser contemplated the notion,  surprised to discover that he didn’t actually want to leave Chicago. Until now,  he’d have thought he’d jump at the chance; but the fact was that he wanted to  stay here. He tried not to think too hard about how much Ray Vecchio had to do  with this change of heart.</p>
<p>At least Ray’s advice helped give Fraser  the courage to defy the wishes of his superior officer and his father. Ray had  been right: Fraser should stand up for himself more often. Or at least when it  really mattered.</p>
<p>On the day Fraser undertook to explain his  decision to the Inspector, he found her attired in a somewhat more casual  manner than usual. She was everything that was perfectly proper, of course; but  her blouse was of a soft fabric and a generous cut, and its top button was  undone, added to which her hairstyle was less tamed than he’d ever seen it  before. All of which had his heart gentling in reaction. She must have been  aware of the effect she had on him.</p>
<p>‘Sir,’ Fraser began, ‘I would like you to  know that I have given very serious thought to the matter of a transfer.’</p>
<p>‘And?’ she prompted.</p>
<p>‘While I find the prospect of returning  home appealing, I would prefer not to leave at this time. I’ve come to feel  that I, um…’ He found himself searching for the right words, even though he’d  rehearsed this a dozen times.</p>
<p>The Inspector rescued him. ‘You feel that  maybe in some small way you have something to offer them.’</p>
<p>‘Yes, sir.’</p>
<p>He’d been expecting accusations of  insubordination at the very least. Instead, Meg Thatcher seemed to soften  towards him, just the barest amount. In fact, she smiled at him, conveying some  approval and maybe even a little fondness. Some kind of understanding passed  between them.</p>
<p>And then she said in her formal voice, ‘Dismissed.’</p>
<p>‘Yes, sir.’</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Benton Fraser had been shot in the thigh  while protecting – of all people – Gerard, the man who had murdered his father.  It was a wound he bore with patience and wry pride. He was following the  regimen of physical therapy very strictly, and he felt he was recovering well  within the expected parameters, so he was a little surprised when the treating  physician at the hospital asked him to visit for an un-scheduled follow-up.</p>
<p>‘I’m feeling fine,’ he said in response to Dr.  Ryan’s initial query. ‘If it wasn’t for the wound, I’d be presumptuous enough  to declare that I’m in the best of health. Have you detected a problem with my  progress?’</p>
<p>‘No, no; your leg is healing perfectly. <em>I</em> should have your powers of recovery… But  I have another concern, Constable Fraser.’</p>
<p>There was a moment of silence. Fraser  waited through it expectantly.</p>
<p>‘There’s no easy way to break bad news,  Constable, as I’m sure you’re aware.’</p>
<p>Ah. No doubt the news wasn’t really  anything too awful. Endeavoring to smooth the man’s way, Fraser said, ‘Of  course you need to assess each individual, Doctor, and his or her internal  stores of fortitude, but I’ve always felt it’s best to tell the news simply and  clearly.’</p>
<p>‘Very well.’ Dr. Ryan cleared his throat,  and sat back in his chair, then looked directly at Fraser sitting there by his  desk. ‘A certain number of tests are done for each patient in this hospital as  a matter of routine, Constable. I assume, from the information you gave at the  time you were admitted, and from what you’ve said today, that you are unaware  of your current condition.’ Another moment passed. ‘I’m afraid that you’ve  tested positive for the human immunodeficiency virus, commonly known as HIV. It  is the virus that can lead to AIDS.’</p>
<p>Fraser sat there staring at the man,  absolutely stunned.</p>
<p>‘Constable, this isn’t necessarily a death  sentence. I won’t trivialize the risks involved, but with the proper care and  attention…’ The doctor faltered for a moment. ‘Your condition may not worsen  for years, even a decade or more, and there are advances being made every day  in research. While we wait for a cure, there are preventative treatments –’</p>
<p>Finally overcoming the inertia of shock,  Fraser held up a hand to stop the man. ‘I am aware of the current situation,  Doctor. In my line of work, it is necessary to be informed.’</p>
<p>‘Of course.’ Ryan seemed to relax a little.  ‘Your job carries risks, like mine does. This isn’t as direct as a bullet, I  suppose, but it’s something many of us face. I had a nurse working for me, she  was jabbed by an infected needle. There’s no justice in it, no rhyme or reason…’</p>
<p>Fraser nodded vaguely, acquiescing to the  doctor’s conclusions.</p>
<p>‘You can’t always be sure exactly when it  happened; the virus can take up to twelve weeks to appear.’ When Fraser nodded  again, the man continued, ‘Well, I don’t suppose I need to load you up with  reading material. I’d like to refer you to a counsellor, though. There’s one I  know whose husband was a cop, so she might be –’</p>
<p>‘That won’t be necessary,’ Fraser said.</p>
<p>‘No?’ Dr. Ryan indicated Fraser’s  paperwork. ‘It seems you don’t yet have a primary care physician here in  Chicago. Let me know as soon as you’ve found one, and I’ll forward all the  information I have.’</p>
<p>‘Thank you, Doctor.’</p>
<p>Ryan sat back in his chair, and considered  Fraser with cool sympathy. ‘Constable, tell me what else I can do for you.’</p>
<p>‘There’s nothing –’ He tried to smile  in reassurance, and almost succeeded. ‘There’s really nothing.’</p>
<p>‘You should check your policies back at  work: you probably need to inform your supervisor.’</p>
<p>Fraser stood up. ‘Yes. Thank you, Doctor.’</p>
<p>Ryan stood as well, and shook his hand  firmly. It was a kind gesture. ‘Good luck, Constable.’ And he watched with some  compassion as Fraser walked stiffly out the door.</p>
<p>Fraser had wasted too much of his recent  past in righteous anger, and he didn’t want to do that again. But the only  alternative right now seemed to be numbness, a horrible dull kind of numbness. He  feared what might happen if it ever wore off.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Inspector Thatcher must be informed: RCMP  policy did indeed require that; Fraser could have quoted the document word for  word. He was required to tell her immediately, which was a blessing in a way,  for he wouldn’t waste any time fearing the confrontation.</p>
<p>He stood at ease before her desk, though of  course he wasn’t at ease at all, and he broke the bad news simply and clearly,  speaking to a place on the far wall about three feet over her head. Silence was  the only reply. When Fraser was finally brave enough to look down at her  sitting there, leaning against the back of her chair, he found nothing but  sorrow and compassion.</p>
<p>‘Oh, Fraser…’ she at last murmured, and she  sounded heartbroken.</p>
<p>‘I’m sorry, ma’am,’ he offered.</p>
<p>‘Don’t apologize, for God’s sake.’</p>
<p>‘This may well be an inconvenience.’</p>
<p>She shook her head, and then pulled herself  upright. ‘You mean the job. Well, I’ll need to check the regulations, confer  with Ottawa –’</p>
<p>‘The relevant policy allows for me to  continue in liaison work, ma’am,’ Fraser said, cutting her off as politely as  he could. He’d prefer as few people knew about this as possible, and he  fervently hoped that had more to do with privacy than shame. ‘Of course there  are issues relating to active duty –’</p>
<p>‘Which don’t apply here, except for your  unofficial work with that Detective friend of yours –’</p>
<p>‘If you could leave that situation to me to  deal with, ma’am, I’d appreciate it.’</p>
<p>Thatcher frowned up at him. ‘But that’s how  you caught it. Isn’t it? During police-work, or giving first aid. There’s a  danger in continuing… Or am I leaping to incorrect conclusions?’</p>
<p>Fraser closed his eyes for a moment. He  couldn’t lose his partnership with Ray. Not yet, at least. And therefore the  truth was called for. ‘There are risks in police-work, yes, ma’am, but I am  certain there hasn’t been a situation here in Chicago where infection could  have taken place. I have taken every precaution.’</p>
<p>‘Then, how?’ she demanded.</p>
<p>The words would not be spoken.</p>
<p>‘I’m discounting drug abuse. Which leaves  sexual transmission.’</p>
<p>He nodded once.</p>
<p>‘You don’t practice safe sex…?’ She seemed  horrified, as well she might.</p>
<p>‘It didn’t seem necessary,’ he faltered, ‘at  the time.’</p>
<p>A terrible silence ensued. At last  Inspector Thatcher said, oh-so-quietly, ‘I expected more from you, Constable.’ Oh-so-deadly  in her disappointment.</p>
<p>‘Yes, ma’am.’</p>
<p>‘I expected more sense.’</p>
<p>‘Yes, ma’am.’</p>
<p>‘Give me one good reason why I should  condone you continuing your current activities. Why should I trust you not to  endanger the lives of the people you come into contact with every day?’</p>
<p>He put all his sincerity into the plea. ‘I  made a mistake, ma’am, I behaved irresponsibly, and I have learned from it. I  may not have earned a second chance, but I would appreciate you bestowing an  opportunity for me to atone in the only way I know how…’</p>
<p>She considered him at length, and he didn’t  doubt that she saw through to the heart of his contrition. Eventually she said,  ‘All right. Dismissed, Constable,’ and he left her office. His every step  seemed heavier that day.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Fraser had long accepted that when Victoria  came to Chicago her initial aim was to destroy everything that he was. Then,  having rediscovered their love, she instead aimed to destroy everyone and  everything that bound him to his new home. If she’d succeeded, as she very  nearly did, Fraser would have lost his career and his reputation as a law-abiding  citizen; having been thrown in jail for crimes he did not commit, he would have  lost his freedom and the prime years of his life. Worst of all, Ray would have  lost his own career and reputation and freedom and perhaps his home, and the  man’s family would have suffered, for no other reason than that Ray stood firm  beside Fraser. Surely even a man of Ray Vecchio’s steadfast loyalty would have  withdrawn his friendship under such terrible circumstances…</p>
<p>Losing Ray’s friendship. The fact that  Victoria deliberately destroyed Fraser’s health should come as no surprise  after all the rest of her plans were laid bare. And, from her point of view, no  doubt Fraser going on the run with her would seem preferable to living his last  days alone in a hospice somewhere. Going with her would indeed have been an act  of self-destruction. Ray had unwittingly saved Fraser from himself, though no  one could save Fraser from the results of loving Victoria Metcalfe.</p>
<p>Fraser surmised that she’d been infected  with HIV while in prison, and therefore she blamed him for it. She’d shared  needles, perhaps, or was forced by circumstance to have unprotected sex. It had  seemed important to her to demonstrate exactly what she had been through: if he  wouldn’t go with her, then she wanted him to be friendless, jailed for murder,  and infected with a death sentence.</p>
<p>Seeing her again, he had been spellbound,  he had been deeply in love. Which, of course, explained his behavior rather  than excused it. He’d trusted her word, he’d honored her assurances; after all,  if <em>he</em> hadn’t engaged in risky  practices during the past ten years then why should he assume that she <em>had</em>?</p>
<p>Fraser was too much the coward to tell Ray.  He meant to, but he didn’t. Every day he woke with the best of intentions, but  found he couldn’t bear Ray’s no-doubt scathing reaction to hearing of Fraser’s  foolishness. It was unforgivably selfish of Fraser, of course, because every  day they were in danger of situations where contaminated blood could be spilled  and exchanged. Something of Fraser would die if he were responsible for harming  Ray any further. And yet he didn’t warn the man of the risks.</p>
<p>Instead Fraser took every conceivable care.  That was nothing very new, so Ray didn’t notice any significant change in  routine. And Fraser took it upon himself to re-educate everyone in the Violent  Crimes Unit about proper first aid procedures. If ever anyone treated him, he  wanted to ensure they wore the gloves and the goggles, and followed the safest  practices. They all listened tolerantly, but of course they looked at him  askance: the Mountie had climbed up on yet another soapbox…</p>
<p>It wasn’t enough, but for now it would have  to do. Fraser only prayed that Ray’s detecting skills wouldn’t uncover the  secret before Fraser was ready to tell him.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Fraser was still half-in-love  with Meg Thatcher, and despite all the odds against it he suspected that she  still felt the same way about him. There were confusing encounters in the  office, halting words and gestures, gazes averted; there was the occasional  date for coffee, if they’d both been working late, which they could pretend was  due to nothing more than convenience and a friendliness between colleagues; there  was her irritation when other women made their intentions towards Fraser too  obvious. And then at last the Constable and the Inspector went so far as to  kiss…</p>
<p>Of course that was under very specific  circumstances. It wasn’t so much the danger they were in that provoked them, as  Fraser’s unfortunate characterization of Thatcher as being cold-hearted. She’d  been hurt that he didn’t think her as compassionate as he himself was. The only  way to assuage his crime was to prove they were both human, they both had wants  and needs and yearnings, they both cared. So he kissed her, on top of a speeding  train. It was rather… stimulating. Dramatic. From somewhere, over the months,  they’d found the rapport initially lacking.</p>
<p>She told him it couldn’t happen again. That  was his superior officer talking, so he was required to listen. Even so, he had  trouble obeying her order to erase the incident from his memory. He suspected  she was having exactly the same trouble.</p>
<p>After giving the matter some thought,  however, Fraser came to the inevitable conclusion that it would take a great  deal of courage and self-sacrifice to love a man with HIV… Indeed, it would  take an amount of courage and sacrifice that he couldn’t expect from anyone. Even  Meg Thatcher, who amply displayed those qualities in her professional life,  couldn’t be expected to throw away her personal life.</p>
<p>On the evening following the aborted trial  of Randall Bolt, the Constable made the Inspector a cup of coffee, took it into  her office and placed it before her. ‘May I have a moment of your time?’ he  asked, standing at ease in front of her desk.</p>
<p>‘Of course.’ When she sensed his  hesitation, she wrapped her hands around the coffee as if seeking its warmth,  and asked, ‘Would you prefer to sit?’</p>
<p>‘Thank you, ma’am.’ The desk remained  between them, but the atmosphere became a little less formal.</p>
<p>Another silence stretched. Their  relationship seemed defined more by all the things they <em>didn’t</em> say, all the things they weren’t brave or foolhardy enough  to do. Finally Thatcher said, ‘You wanted to say something, Constable?’</p>
<p>‘Yes, ma’am.’</p>
<p>‘Perhaps you could start by calling me Meg.’</p>
<p>He turned to face her directly, yearning  and protesting in equal measure. This was not the time for her to make any  tentative advances. As gently as he could, Fraser said, ‘I don’t think that  would be wise, ma’am.’</p>
<p>She immediately withdrew behind a more  professional expression. ‘All right, Constable. What did you want to say?’</p>
<p>‘Ma’am, you asked me to forget our…  contact. And while I have had difficulty in doing so, I believe you were  absolutely correct in your request.’ For a moment he feared she would interrupt  him, so he pressed on in an effort to get it all said. ‘I have been most  presumptuous since then; I have complimented you in unsuitable ways, I have endeavored  to remind you of something you wanted to forget. I must apologize for that.’</p>
<p>‘Fraser, please don’t –’</p>
<p>‘I have been behaving inappropriately,’  Fraser said, overriding her. ‘Completely inappropriately. Especially as you  know…’ He looked at her, met her lovely dark eyes, and he almost faltered. ‘In  fact, you know better than anyone, that in my condition I have very little to  offer anyone.’</p>
<p>Something inside of her crumpled. Perhaps,  if she had been a different woman, she would have been close to tears. But Meg  Thatcher wasn’t like any other woman, and he loved her all the more for it.</p>
<p>‘I had no right to relate to you in such an  unprofessional manner,’ Fraser concluded. ‘I will not continue to do so. I apologize  for such a lapse in decorum.’</p>
<p>A long silence stretched. Eventually, her  voice shaking slightly, she asked, ‘Is that all, Constable?’</p>
<p>‘Yes, ma’am.’</p>
<p>‘Apology accepted,’ she said. ‘Dismissed.’</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>And that was that. No more loose ends. Fraser  prepared to continue with his life, though nothing could ever be quite the  same. He had lived chaste before, and he would do it again. The reasons why  were somewhat different now, but that was of no great importance. He was a  gentleman, and he must live accordingly; and, anyway, there were so many  blessings in his life, so many things to be grateful for. It would do.</p>
<p>♦</p><h2>PART FIVE: RAY</h2>
<p>With a sense of timing that had Fraser, in  undisciplined moments, feeling alarmingly poignant, Ray began showing signs  that he was becoming aware of his more tender feelings for Fraser… Once more,  the safest course of action for Fraser seemed to be obliviousness and confusion.  Though he wondered how long it could be before his best friend, the man who  knew him as thoroughly as anyone ever had, saw through the ruse.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, there were charming incidents. When  Fraser had been kidnapped by Charles Carver, Ray had found him; when they both  ended up trapped in the back of a wrecked car that was about to be crushed, Ray  had held Fraser’s hand for the sake of reassurance, and the length of his thigh  had pressed hot against Fraser’s… When Francesca Vecchio renewed her campaign  for the Mountie’s affections, her brother had seemed quite jealous and  protective. ‘You’ve got to pick the dreams that have a <em>chance</em> of coming true,’ he’d advised her, not knowing that Fraser  could hear him. ‘Yeah, of <em>course</em> I  have dreams, and they’re not so far from yours – but at least I’m realistic…’ And  when Fraser recovered from a bout of amnesia, Ray’s first reaction had been, ‘Benny,  I could kiss you!’ To which Fraser had blurted, ‘Oh, I thought we were just  friends,’ feeling alarmed and delighted all at once. ‘Oh, we are,’ Ray  responded, before launching back into the case they were working on.</p>
<p>It was becoming more and more difficult for  Fraser not to acknowledge that his heart raced every time he met those candid  hazel eyes; to pretend that he was unaware of Ray’s own physical reactions to  him, subtle though they were. It was quite the conundrum: there was Fraser,  blithely using his finely honed powers of observation and detection every day,  and yet continuing to ignore what was beside him every step of the way. No  doubt Ray still thought Fraser an innocent, but the cop wouldn’t let him get  away with this forever.</p>
<p>And yet it was all quite doomed. There  could be no consummation of this love, and to endeavor to requite it on an  emotional level alone would eventually result in disappointment and heartbreak;  Fraser could never ask the sensual Ray Vecchio to remain in love yet chaste… Better  that nothing was ever said. Better to continue as the closest of friends, and  never put their finer feelings to the test. Better to deny his own part in  this.</p>
<p>But he feared that Ray wouldn’t let it go.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>It was Friday evening, and the end of a  long week. As Fraser settled into the passenger seat of the Riviera, he noticed  that Ray hadn’t yet turned the ignition. Other police officers walked by, on  their way into or out of the station. At last Ray said, ‘Do you want to have  dinner with me? I feel like something good, lots of pasta and bread.’</p>
<p>‘Yes, I’d like that, Ray.’ Fraser indicated  the wolf currently sitting upright and eager in the back seat. ‘And  Diefenbaker…?’</p>
<p>Ray cast him a tired look. ‘Can we drop him  off at Willie’s? I’m not up to feeding and walking him tonight.’</p>
<p>Fraser agreed, and they set off. Soon he  was sitting opposite Ray in a rather elegant Italian restaurant, and they were  sharing a generous meal. The companionable silence was broken only by desultory  talk of the week’s caseload, until finally, as they were taking their time over  a cappuccino and a chamomile tea, Ray asked, ‘What do you have faith in, Fraser?’</p>
<p>‘I beg your pardon?’</p>
<p>‘What do you believe in? You’re not  religious, right?’</p>
<p>‘No, I’m not.’ Fraser let a moment drift  by, but decided he owed Ray a full and honest answer. ‘I believe there’s more  to the universe than this life, this short life which is all we are able to  know.’</p>
<p>‘So you know there’s more, but you don’t  know what exactly.’</p>
<p>‘Yes.’</p>
<p>Ray frowned at him. ‘Doesn’t that bother  you? The uncertainty of it?’</p>
<p>‘No, Ray.’ Fraser smiled reassuringly. ‘I  simply focus on the here and now, on the things I can understand through my  five senses, on my life overall, and I do the best I can.’</p>
<p>A moment passed by, and then Ray asked, ‘Well,  do you think there’s an afterlife?’</p>
<p>‘I have no idea. If there is, I’ll focus on  it once I’m there.’</p>
<p>Ray shook his head. ‘I like a bit more  certainty than that. I like to believe there’s a heaven, and I might have a  chance of getting there.’ A narrow look from those hazel eyes, as if daring  Fraser to make anything of this. ‘But you’d better be there as well, Fraser. My  heaven wouldn’t be heaven unless you were there, too.’</p>
<p>‘Thank you, Ray,’ Fraser said with  automatic but genuine sincerity.</p>
<p>‘It’s a date, then.’ And, having settled  that to his satisfaction, Ray pulled himself up out of the chair, and walked  off to settle the bill.</p>
<p>Fraser was left sitting there wistfully  wishing they didn’t have to wait that long…</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Ray followed Fraser into his apartment, and  waited by the door while Fraser crouched to light the hurricane lamp. Then Ray  said, ‘There’s something I have to tell you.’</p>
<p>Fraser watched him through the dimness. Please,  not yet, he prayed. ‘Yes, Ray?’ he murmured, just in case he was wrong about  where this was leading.</p>
<p>‘Something I have to ask you about,’ Ray  continued, rambling verbally while he stood there with his hands in his  pockets, shuffling his feet a little. ‘I don’t know when it happened, or why,  and it’s about the last thing I ever expected, but…’</p>
<p>‘Please don’t.’</p>
<p>‘…I seem to have fallen in love with you,  Fraser.’ A brief silence – and then Ray looked up at him, and asked, ‘<em>What</em> did you say?’</p>
<p>‘Please don’t talk of this,’ Fraser  repeated, though he barely had the voice for it.</p>
<p>‘Oh.’ Ray considered him. ‘So I guess you  knew all along, right?’</p>
<p>Fraser almost grimaced, and turned away. ‘Yes.’</p>
<p>‘But you never said anything. And you don’t  want me to say anything now?’</p>
<p>‘No.’</p>
<p>An awful pause lengthened. ‘Why not?’</p>
<p>How stupid of Fraser not to have prepared  for this moment. Ray was going to require a reason, a good solid reason, for  being rebuffed.</p>
<p>‘You think this is easy for me?’ Ray said,  his complaints trying to cover for his rawness. ‘I had to do a lot of thinking,  and I mean a <em>lot</em> of thinking, to come  to terms with this. I’ve fallen in love with a man. That’s… completely out of  left field for me. Completely out of the ballpark. But I finally decide I  should tell you about it, and maybe even do something about it, and you  just –’</p>
<p>‘I’m sorry, Ray.’</p>
<p>‘Sorry. Is that it? Is that all you’re  going to say to me?’</p>
<p>‘That’s all I <em>can</em> say, Ray.’</p>
<p>‘You’re sorry. And I thought… You know, I  could have sworn you were in love with me, too. At least a little bit anyway.’</p>
<p>Fraser had to close his eyes, because they  were suspiciously damp. It was so terribly rude to have turned his back on Ray  for almost the entire conversation, but Fraser knew no other way through this.</p>
<p>Silence. Ray eventually shuffled his feet  again, took a step or two – when Fraser heard the door open, he didn’t know if  he was glad or relieved or devastated that Ray hadn’t been walking towards him.  ‘Well,’ Ray offered, ‘I’m sorry, too. That I said anything. Stuff you didn’t  want to hear. So, er, I’ll see you on Monday, all right?’</p>
<p>‘Yes, Ray,’ Fraser managed to say with only  the barest tremor in his voice. ‘Of course.’</p>
<p>‘Look, I have to thank you, actually. Let  me do that now, and I’ll never say anything else like this again. But you’ve  been decent about it. I’ve been turned down a lot less gently than that over  the years.’ An odd sound as Ray cleared his throat; Fraser prayed it wasn’t an  unborn sob. ‘See you Monday, Fraser.’</p>
<p>And he was gone; the door closing quietly,  the footsteps heading down the hall.</p>
<p>When Fraser was absolutely positive that  the man was out of earshot, he brokenly said, ‘Oh, <em>Ray</em>…’ And he had to scrunch his face up, scrunch his whole <em>body</em> up, in order to hold in the tears. There  he was, the Mountie, kneeling on the floor with both arms wrapped around  himself, trying not to wail his bereavement…</p>
<p>He’d lost so much: he’d lost his health,  his future, his love. It was unforgivably selfish of him, but just for that  moment Fraser let himself mourn for all the things he might have been. He’d  wanted to grow old and grey, he’d wanted a full career, he’d wanted eight gold  stars on his sleeve by the time he retired, he’d wanted to save and to serve,  to prevent and to protect, he’d wanted to see justice done. And he’d wanted,  oh, he’d so dearly wanted to share all that with Ray… He’d wanted love.</p>
<p>After a while, once the tears had been  forced back with only a few spilt, Fraser stiffly clumsily made it to the bed,  and he lay down, not caring that he was still fully dressed in his brown  uniform. He wondered if his father would appear with gruff words of futile and  inappropriate comfort. He wished Dief wasn’t at Willie’s for the night. He lay  there alone, unmoving, bleaker than he’d ever been. Eventually, at some  unknowable hour of the long dark night, sleep came; a heavy sleep, akin to  unconsciousness. It felt like his body’s last awful line of defense.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>A brief touch against his face – fingers  running down his jaw-line, caressing the sensitive skin under his chin – and  Fraser blinked awake. Ray. Ray Vecchio was there, looking down at him with an  aching kind of compassion. And it was morning; the sunlight streamed in,  proving it was far later than Fraser was used to rising.</p>
<p>Without saying anything, Ray withdrew, and  headed for the kitchen. When Fraser pushed himself up further against the  pillows, he saw that Ray was making coffee. Bless the man…</p>
<p>Finally Fraser regained enough awareness  and mobility to sit up on the side of the bed, feet firmly planted on the  floor, elbows taking his weight by resting on his knees. Soon Ray walked over,  two mugs of coffee in his hands, and he gave one to Fraser before settling next  to him, not too close but not too far away. And they sat there together in  silence for a while.</p>
<p>About halfway through the coffee, Ray said,  ‘Yeah, I didn’t sleep much, either.’</p>
<p>Still at somewhat of a loss, Fraser didn’t  say anything.</p>
<p>‘Benny, I had to come back,’ Ray said. He  was very quiet, but firm; as if he’d reached some kind of certainty. ‘I had to  try again. At least talk about it. Seriously. I couldn’t stop thinking last  night, about what you said. How you said it. What you didn’t say.’ He turned  his head to look at Fraser, who studiously examined his coffee. ‘I think you <em>are</em> in love with me. So there has to be  a reason why you wouldn’t listen to me.’</p>
<p>Silence.</p>
<p>‘You want to tell me what the reason is,  Benny?’</p>
<p>‘No.’</p>
<p>Could that small voice have been his? Fraser  had to assume so.</p>
<p>‘Benny, it’s cost me a lot to get this far.’  Patient, but determined. ‘I’m not going to give up without… without <em>some</em> kind of idea what’s going on. You  owe me that. Don’t you?’</p>
<p>‘No.’</p>
<p>But that was horribly unfair of him. Ray  deserved better, Ray appreciated decency; and Fraser was indeed a more just man  than that.</p>
<p>‘Just help me to understand, huh? I’ve  never… Um, I’ve never felt like –’</p>
<p>‘Ray,’ Fraser said, cutting in quite  rudely, ‘you don’t know what you’re asking for.’</p>
<p>‘Yes, I do!’ the man retorted, apparently  stung. ‘Well, I have a good hunch or two about it, anyway, even if I haven’t  figured out all the details.’</p>
<p>‘I don’t mean <em>that</em>. I mean – In love, Ray, when I’m <em>truly</em> in love, I hardly know myself anymore.’ And Fraser found that  he was pleading face-to-face with the man. ‘I do things I never would have done  otherwise, I become completely culpable. It’s not something I want to risk  again. It’s not something anyone else should suffer for.’</p>
<p>Ray was eager to argue. ‘Well, OK, but you’d  be safe with me,’ he declared. ‘I’d never make you do anything you wouldn’t  want to, nothing you wouldn’t choose to.’</p>
<p>Fraser shook his head, impatient with  himself for not explaining.</p>
<p>‘I like you just the way you are, Constable  Benton Fraser, RCMP.’</p>
<p>‘Except,’ Fraser observed with some  bitterness, ‘you want me to become your lover.’</p>
<p>‘Yeah…’ Ray breathed in reply. And suddenly  he was leaning close, and Fraser found himself frozen in place, caught by that  hot hazel gaze. Ray’s lips met his, and then the two men were kissing, and it  was like being blessed by the sun in the morning, by the gentle blue skies,  blessed by the pure taste of a mountain stream after a long day’s hike…</p>
<p>‘No!’</p>
<p>Fraser broke away, dumped the coffee mug –  where, he didn’t see – and strode to the relative safety of the apartment’s far  corner, stood there with his back turned to Ray.</p>
<p>‘Benny?’ Concern in the voice, but  thankfully Ray stayed where he was.</p>
<p>‘We can’t do this, Ray. Don’t ask me to do  this.’</p>
<p>‘Why not?’</p>
<p>A long moment before Fraser found the  wherewithal to begin. ‘The Greeks had many myths relating to mortals visiting  the underworld. They all involved one essential story. The mortal would <em>want</em> to briefly visit Hades for some  good reason; or occasionally he was lured, but there was some kind of consent  to the adventure. While there he inevitably partook of a feast. He ate  something, and that bound him to the underworld forever after; he was trapped,  unless heroically rescued. And even if the mortal did manage to leave and  return to our world, he would bring a part of hell back with him; he could not  remain unmarked by his experiences and he could never completely escape…’ Fraser  raised a contemplative brow. ‘The myths were statements of our mortality,  really.’</p>
<p>Still sitting there on the bed, Ray slowly  said, ‘That’s not gonna do it for me, Fraser. Maybe you should try an Inuit  tale.’</p>
<p>Fraser turned to face him. It was time for  the unvarnished truth. ‘Ray,’ he said, simply and clearly, ‘I have been  infected with the human immunodeficiency virus.’</p>
<p>Blankness for a moment, as Ray tried to  take that in. And then infinite sorrow fell through that beautiful mobile face.  ‘Oh, <em>Benny</em>,’ he murmured, sad though  still not quite comprehending. ‘No…’</p>
<p>‘Yes,’ said Fraser.</p>
<p>And then Ray was coming to him, enfolding  him in the most gentle of embraces, crooning in his grief, ‘Benny… oh, Benny, caro…  my poor Benny-love.’</p>
<p>This unlooked-for comfort almost depleted  the last of Fraser’s fortitude. He buried his face against Ray’s shoulder, and  fought against a helpless fit of weeping.</p>
<p>‘But how did this happen?’ Ray eventually  asked, puzzled, his voice raw. He lifted his head, and Fraser did so, too. ‘How  could you possibly –’ Then realization hit the man, and his face went as  cold and as hard as steel. ‘Victoria.’</p>
<p>‘I have to assume so; yes.’</p>
<p>Ray pulled away, began pacing, an internal  struggle twisting his usually perfect posture. ‘I swore I’d kill her if she  hurt you.’ And he was all barely banked-down fury now…</p>
<p>Fraser said, ‘You won’t.’</p>
<p>‘You don’t understand,’ Ray cried out: ‘it’s  in my blood.’ Then he grimaced in pain as he realized what he’d said; he apologized  by offering a caress of Fraser’s shoulder. ‘Benny, it’s an Italian thing.’</p>
<p>‘There’s no darkness in you, Ray. You won’t  kill her.’</p>
<p>Ray already knew he wouldn’t. ‘Why not?’ he  asked dispiritedly.</p>
<p>‘You’re an honorable man, Ray.’</p>
<p>They watched each other, as Ray’s wrath  metamorphosed into remorse. ‘I have a better reason,’ the man said. ‘Finding  her would be such a waste of my time, when I could be here with you. I guess we  don’t have long now – at least not as long as I was hoping for. I want to make  the most of it.’</p>
<p>‘We’ll have years,’ Fraser assured him. ‘I  am on medication. A healthy lifestyle will help my condition, and natural  therapies may be of some benefit. I will be your friend and your partner for a  decade or more.’</p>
<p>‘You’ll be my lover,’ Ray insisted.</p>
<p>‘No, Ray. Please don’t ask that of me.’</p>
<p>‘But, for God’s sake, Benny – we love each  other. That’s too precious to walk away from. Life’s too damned short.’ Again,  Ray realized what he’d said; then realized once more the truth of that, and the  pain seemed to rip through him.</p>
<p>‘I made a mistake, Ray. I can’t let anyone  else suffer for it.’</p>
<p>‘<em>I’d</em> suffer – if I couldn’t have you.’</p>
<p>Fraser closed his eyes. ‘Please. I made an  oath to myself to live chaste.’</p>
<p>‘Break it,’ Ray demanded.</p>
<p>And the man was right there again, kissing  Fraser with hungry angry passion; pressing up against him so hard that Fraser  had to hold onto him for the sake of balance. It became patently obvious that  they both wanted this, at least on a physical level.</p>
<p>‘Please,’ Fraser murmured, when Ray was  done.</p>
<p>‘It’s not <em>Please don’t</em> anymore?’ Ray sounded smug.</p>
<p>‘That’s what I meant. Please don’t.’</p>
<p>‘But you want me.’</p>
<p>It was all too much; the emotional torment  after such an unrestful night was sapping his strength. ‘Can we sit down?’  Fraser asked.</p>
<p>‘Yeah, of course. I’m sorry.’ Ray took his  hand, and led him back to the bed. When they settled, Fraser was pleased that  Ray didn’t push any further: he sat beside him, not too close and not too far  away, and he let go of Fraser’s hand.</p>
<p>‘Ray,’ Fraser began, ‘I was chaste, until…  until I was thirty-three years old. That was my choice, and it was no hardship.  But I have to admit, even though it’s my choice again now, I feel chastity has  been imposed on me by circumstance, and it has become a burden.’</p>
<p>An eager Ray was about to speak, but he  stopped when Fraser lifted his chin to indicate he hadn’t finished.</p>
<p>‘You can take advantage of that, if you  choose. You can force the issue, and seduce me. But it would not be the behavior  of a gentleman.’</p>
<p>‘Oh.’ Wounded, almost. Ray took his time  thinking about that. Eventually he said, ‘You’re being scrupulous, Fraser, when  all a gentleman needs to be is careful. You’re a cop; you know as much about  safe sex as I do. You’ve sure been lecturing us about prevention lately  and –’</p>
<p>Fraser looked pointedly at his friend.</p>
<p>‘God, Benny, you idiot. I should have  figured this out before – but who’d have thought it of my inviolate Mountie…?’</p>
<p>‘I’m human, Ray. I’m mortal.’</p>
<p>‘Yes. I know that, Benny.’ Ray looked at  him earnestly: ‘All you need to do is be careful – and trust that I’ll be  careful, too. I mean, there was a time when maybe I wouldn’t have been, like  you couldn’t have guessed. My misspent youth, and all that; I took some pretty  stupid risks. But I won’t do that now. So, <em>trust</em> me, Benny. And let me trust you.’</p>
<p>Those last words were the most heartfelt  plea Ray Vecchio had ever levelled at him. ‘But,’ faltered Fraser, ‘you’ve  always seemed so sure you could never love a man. Ray, if this isn’t really in  your nature, why don’t you take the sensible and easy option of remaining my  friend, and –’ Fraser ground to a halt.</p>
<p>‘And what?’ Ray asked after a moment.</p>
<p><em>The  easy option</em>…</p>
<p>Fraser looked at the man sitting there  beside him. ‘I, er…’</p>
<p>‘What?’</p>
<p>‘I don’t know.’</p>
<p>Ray smiled at him; fondly, like he always  did. ‘We’re going to become lovers, Benton Fraser; I promise you that. But not  right now. Neither of us is up for that right now. So, I figure you should let  me take you out for breakfast – a <em>healthy</em> breakfast – and we can resume this later. What do you say?’</p>
<p>‘Yes,’ Fraser responded. And that’s what  they did.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Breakfast at Joan’s coffee shop – oatmeal,  with milk, raisins and a sliced banana – was very welcome. Particularly as the  meal gave Fraser time for thought; for Ray was sitting opposite him, deep in  his own reflections. No doubt they both had plenty to mull over this morning… Anger  and protest and sadness took their turns flashing across that mobile, beautiful  face; but Ray didn’t impose on Fraser’s thoughts, and Fraser didn’t interfere  with Ray’s.</p>
<p>Fraser had to face the fact that loving Ray  Vecchio, and being loved by him, was no longer the easy path. Everything had  become complicated. Difficult. Dangerous. <em>Because  narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are  few who find it.</em> Perhaps he had just found it. Perhaps the faith and the  trust and the <em>spiritual</em> love required  for Fraser to love this man physically – perhaps all that made this the path  that led to life.</p>
<p>Though nothing about Ray himself had  changed, despite the man’s growing awareness of his own feelings, and his  courage in insisting that Fraser acknowledge them. Nothing had changed in many  ways – it would still be luxuriously easy to let go of his concerns, and simply  love Ray… Not that Ray wasn’t a challenging and occasionally a difficult person  to be with, but Fraser had always found it extremely easy to love the man, and,  perhaps more to the point, to be loved by him.</p>
<p>His thinking was growing muddled. But what  Fraser assumed he was reaching for was the idea that some good decisions were  actually easy to make; they weren’t always difficult. Similarly, some bad  decisions were difficult, and some were easy. Victoria had helped him learn  that, at least. Yes, the degree of difficulty didn’t always indicate the  rightness or the correctness of the decision.</p>
<p>The quote from Matthew might require a re-examination…  For now perhaps Fraser could meditate on something from the first book of  Corinthians: <em>And though I have the gift  of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have  all faith, so that I could move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing</em>.  And who better than Ray Vecchio to help Benton Fraser learn about love, which <em>bears all things, believes all things, hopes  all things, endures all things</em>… Ray was a wise and worthy choice.</p>
<p>Fraser smiled at his friend. His lover. It  was Fraser’s true smile, and it came unbidden, responding to the warmth in  those hazel eyes.</p>
<p>‘Are you done here?’ Ray murmured.</p>
<p>‘Yes.’</p>
<p>The two of them walked back to Fraser’s  apartment. For want of any clearer ideas about what should happen next, they  both sat down on the bed again.</p>
<p>‘You’ve decided to let this happen, haven’t  you?’ Ray asked, knowing the answer. ‘I saw it on your face back there.’</p>
<p>‘But are <em>you</em> sure, Ray? Are you sure that this is in your nature? Your  comments over the two years of our partnership have indicated some level of  discomfort…’</p>
<p>The man shrugged. ‘So, it took me a while  to get used to the idea. Anyway, all my doubts, all my fears – none of them  mean much compared to what you told me this morning.’</p>
<p>‘I don’t understand.’</p>
<p>‘You’ve gone and got something bad.’ Ray  reached to hold Fraser’s hand. ‘I need to be with you, I need to face this with  you. I need to give you some good stuff to weigh against the bad. <em>That</em> overrides anything else.’</p>
<p>Fraser nodded, accepting this, though he  thought it far too generous.</p>
<p>‘Do you know what overrides everything else  right now, though?’ Ray asked.</p>
<p>‘No.’</p>
<p>‘I’m exhausted. I’d say you are, too.’ That  warm hand grasped his firmly for a moment. ‘I think we should just lie down  here, and get some sleep. We don’t have to undress or anything. Let’s just hold  each other, and sleep. What do you say?’</p>
<p>‘Yes,’ said Fraser.</p>
<p>Perhaps in the past Fraser would have  stripped to his shorts and undershirt; being scrupulous now he only went as far  as his pants and shirt, though he appreciated that at least his feet were bare.  Ray, seeing this, did the same, and lay down beside Fraser in his suit-pants  and silk shirt, even though they’d end up terribly crumpled. The two men  shifted into each other’s arms, Fraser arranged the blanket over them both, and  eventually they politely and carefully settled into a position they could sleep  in. To hold Ray was like being blessed by the Earth itself.</p>
<p>‘Ray,’ Fraser murmured into the hush.</p>
<p>‘Yeah?’</p>
<p>‘I love you.’</p>
<p>‘Oh God, Benny, I love you, too.’</p>
<p>Fraser cleared his throat, deciding to give  the man a little more. ‘In fact, we’ve always had a rapport, Ray… I’ve been  half-in-love with you almost since the first day we met.’</p>
<p>Ray laughed gently. ‘Took me a little  longer to get with the program, huh?’</p>
<p>‘I think not.’</p>
<p>‘Oh yeah?’</p>
<p>Those hazel eyes flashed up at him, and  then Ray settled again. Fraser drew the man slightly closer into his embrace,  welcoming him as best he could with his whole body. And, feeling supremely  content, Fraser slipped away into peaceful slumber.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>When they woke four hours later, there  weren’t any words that needed speaking. Companionably, they got up, shared a  glass of water, ate an apple each. Watched each other with certainty and candor.</p>
<p>Fraser broke the silence by murmuring, ‘Won’t  your family be missing you?’</p>
<p>‘Nah. I’m yours for the weekend, if you’ll  have me.’</p>
<p>‘I’ll have you,’ Fraser said.</p>
<p>Ray grinned at him, enjoying the innuendo.  ‘I even turned the cell phone off.’ Lifting his expressive brow, Ray asked, ‘What  about Dief?’</p>
<p>‘Perhaps we could collect him. Later.’</p>
<p>‘Later,’ Ray whispered. He began walking  towards Fraser, who was standing propped against the kitchen counter. ‘Later,  after <em>this</em>.’ And then Ray was leaning  against him, Ray’s off-balance weight pressing his hips and thighs to meet  Fraser’s hunger… and they were kissing, respectfully and lovingly and needily. It  became very obvious once again that they both wanted this physical interaction:  hardness incited hardness, though the sensation was dulled by layers of cloth. Ray’s  demanding hands on his back and shoulders felt wonderful, while Fraser let his  palms and fingers cherish Ray from his shorn head down to his neatly-rounded  rear…</p>
<p>And Fraser found that he hoped it could  simply happen like this. Anticipating an easy resolution to their mutual lusts,  he took firmer hold of Ray’s delightful <em>derriere</em>,  and began purposefully seeking completion by bringing rhythm to their  movements.</p>
<p>Ray seemed eager to cooperate, his arms  encompassing Fraser, his mouth hungry. But too soon he pulled back, tried to  still Fraser’s thrusts. ‘Time for bed, lover,’ the man said, his breath  panting. ‘Or it’s all going to be over right here and now.’</p>
<p>Fraser was nothing but yearning.</p>
<p>‘You <em>want</em> it over here and now?’ Ray tentatively asked after a brief examination of  Fraser’s expression. ‘But, why? Come on, Benny: let’s do this properly. We  deserve that. Don’t we?’</p>
<p>‘I… I don’t know.’</p>
<p>‘It’s our first time. We should make love,  something special; we should do it in your bed, such as it is.’</p>
<p>Fraser let his head fall forward, until it  was buried safely against Ray’s shoulder.</p>
<p>‘What’s wrong, Benny?’ One of Ray’s lovely  hands was rubbing the nape of Fraser’s neck, soothing him. ‘What’s the matter? Is  this all too fast for you? We can take our time, if that’s what you want.’</p>
<p>No, that wasn’t it. Fraser shook his head.</p>
<p>‘Maybe, uh, maybe you’re not sure what we’re  going to do together. Is that it? Well, neither of us has done this before,  with a man, I mean, so I was thinking we’d only try for something simple. Simple  and safe. It’ll be fine, Benny.’</p>
<p>Another shake of his head.</p>
<p>‘What, then?’</p>
<p>‘I don’t know.’</p>
<p>‘Ah, Benny…’ Ray sounded sorrowful, but  full of patience.</p>
<p>Of course Ray deserved more than this. Fraser  lifted his head, and they considered each other for a long moment. Their hunger  was still urgently mutual.</p>
<p>‘Well, maybe we should just keep going for  now,’ Ray said lightly, his fingers beginning to undo the first of the buttons  on Fraser’s shirt, ‘and you tell me as soon as you figure it out.’</p>
<p>Fraser acquiesced to this with a nod, and  he started to shakily undo Ray’s shirt in turn. He almost forgot the problem  entirely in the happiness of uncovering Ray’s wide shoulders, of slipping the  silk down his arms, of lifting his vest to discover the robust dark hair of his  chest. It was when they were both bare to the waist, and Ray shifted into his  arms for another kiss, and the feel of skin against skin shocked him – that was  when Fraser worked it out.</p>
<p>‘I brought a piece of hell back with me,’  he blurted.</p>
<p>Ray stared at him.</p>
<p>‘You shouldn’t touch me.’</p>
<p>‘That’s nonsense,’ Ray said, blunt but  using the gentlest of voices. ‘We’ll be careful, that’s all.’</p>
<p>‘This body… is tainted.’ Fraser surprised  himself with that. ‘A foolish reaction, maybe, but that’s how I feel.’</p>
<p>‘Benny, I <em>love</em> your body.’ And Ray bent his head to press a kiss against  Fraser’s throat, his chest, a nipple. ‘God, if you knew the dreams I’ve had about  this body of yours… Such dreams! I couldn’t deny it any longer. I want to make  love to your body. I want you to make love to me.’</p>
<p>‘It’s not that I don’t want that, Ray –’</p>
<p>Interrupting him, Ray continued, ‘You’re so  much more than a body, anyway. Your heart and your mind and your soul, Benny, I  love them, too. Your quirks and your ideals. Ah, the <em>soul</em> of you, Benton Fraser, I love your soul. You said it yourself:  we’re more than this short life.’ Ray was imploring him to understand, utterly  sincere. ‘The HIV, it doesn’t define you. It’s a part of you – but just a  little part. And I can even love that, if I have to.’</p>
<p>Fraser stared at the man, astounded.</p>
<p>‘I <em>love</em> you, Benny, if you haven’t gotten that through your thick skull yet. I love you  even more than I thought possible when I came here last night, even more than  when I came back this morning. I love you, and to prove that, I want to make  love with you with these fallible old bodies of ours… Heavens, it’s not like <em>I’m</em> all pristine or whatever! … What do  you say?’</p>
<p>‘Yes.’ What on earth <em>could</em> he say? ‘Oh, <em>yes</em>,  Ray.’</p>
<p>‘Come on, then, lover. Time for bed.’</p>
<p>And soon they were lying there naked on  Fraser’s narrow bunk. Completely naked not only in body, but in heart and mind  and soul as well. It wasn’t like anything Fraser had had before. ‘I never knew,’  he murmured. ‘I never knew.’</p>
<p>Ray lay beside him, propped up on an elbow  and overlapping him; warm flesh leaving its imprint, mouth claiming possession.  A knowledgeable hand sent Fraser soaring with a few firm strokes.</p>
<p>‘Please!’</p>
<p>Chuckling, Ray asked, ‘Do you want to make  it last?’</p>
<p>‘I don’t think I can,’ Fraser confessed.</p>
<p>The pleasantly relentless rhythm never  faltered. ‘You are so beautiful,’ Ray was crooning, smiling down at him, ‘so  beautiful, Benny…’</p>
<p>A gasp escaped him. ‘Wait!’</p>
<p>‘What, Benny?’ Ray’s touch obediently  gentled, slowed.</p>
<p>‘I have to be careful,’ Fraser said,  earnestly meeting those loving hazel eyes. ‘I hadn’t thought exactly – Let  me be scrupulous this once.’</p>
<p>‘Whatever you need, Benny. We’ll sort out  the rules later. What do you need?’</p>
<p>Fraser was already reaching for his pants,  locating the folded snowy-white handkerchief. And he held it ready to catch his  semen, not wanting to let it spatter Ray. He nodded to indicate that Ray should  continue, and the wonderful rhythm began again, the perfect pressure. Ray  leaned down to kiss him, intensifying the sensations. But then – perhaps  guessing that Fraser must remain conscious of everything that was happening at  least for this first time – Ray contented himself with burying his face against  Fraser’s throat, biting and sucking and licking the sensitive flesh there –</p>
<p>– and Fraser was coming with a wounded  cry, following it up with a joyful one, happy, so eternally gratefully happy  that he’d found this love, this truest purest love.</p>
<p>‘That’s it, Benny, my beautiful man, my  lover-man, Benny…’</p>
<p>He spiraled down, letting the handkerchief  fall to the floor; began offering soft caresses to Ray, who chuckled again.</p>
<p>‘What do you find amusing?’ Fraser asked,  knowing he wasn’t being mocked.</p>
<p>‘Nothing. I’m just so damned happy.’</p>
<p>‘I was thinking exactly the same thing.’ Fraser  heaved himself up, pushing Ray over to lie on his back. ‘My turn,’ he demanded.</p>
<p>‘Hey, do you hear me arguing? I just –’</p>
<p>Ray’s words failed him as Fraser bent to  engulf the man’s long, elegant cock in his mouth. The taste and the heat and  the hardness of him was exquisite.</p>
<p>‘Oh God, Benny…’ Ray managed, before  pushing futilely at Fraser’s shoulder. Not deigning to withdraw, Fraser wrapped  both arms around that narrow waist, and lifted the man’s weight a few inches  off the bed. Ray tensed, his thigh muscles pushing strongly up against Fraser’s  chest, and with another, ‘Oh God… God!’ the man was coming, pulsing sweet  juices into Fraser’s devouring mouth.</p>
<p>Afterwards, Fraser lay down again, and  hauled Ray’s quiescent body into an embrace.</p>
<p>‘You’re incredible,’ Ray said when he  finally recovered his words.</p>
<p>‘You make me whole,’ Fraser responded, raw.  ‘You fill me, fulfil me.’</p>
<p>Ray smiled at him. ‘Idiot,’ he said fondly.  And they dozed for a while in each other’s arms, before deciding they’d better  go collect Dief.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>On the way home from Willie’s, Fraser and  Ray detoured to the park, let Dief out for a run, and followed along together  at a more sedate pace.</p>
<p>‘I want to hold your hand,’ Ray laughingly  confessed.</p>
<p>‘I wish you could.’</p>
<p>They strolled on in the late afternoon sun,  steeped in contentment.</p>
<p>Out of the blue, Fraser said, ‘I am  nothing, Ray.’ He looked across at his lover, saw his patient frown. There was  a slight chill in the air though Fraser was quite comfortable, the trees  rustled above them, and the sounds of the city were distinct though they seemed  far far away. ‘I am nothing, I have less than nothing, I have nothing to offer  you.’ In fact, Fraser felt like an empty vessel; empty, and so flimsy that the  sunlight shone right through him. ‘All I have is my love for you, Ray.’</p>
<p>‘Then you’re in luck,’ Ray responded  lightly. ‘Because that’s all I want. That’s all I’ll ever need.’</p>
<p>And the two men shared a true smile.</p>
<p>♦</p>
<p>Dinner was two large home-delivered pizzas…  Ray and Fraser lost interest in food about halfway through, so Diefenbaker had  more than a wolf’s share, and everyone was content. Fraser soon enticed Ray  back to his bed, and they lay there together, still mostly dressed, kissing and  cuddling so intensely and for so long that Fraser’s lips ended up feeling  abused. He loved every minute of it…</p>
<p>At some stage Ray said, ‘I want you to do  me a favor.’</p>
<p>‘Anything.’</p>
<p>‘Because I’m gonna be needing to get naked  with you soon.’ Ray finally divested himself of the shirt that was open and  pushed back past his shoulders; then he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and  pulled one of Fraser’s hands to rub at his stomach. ‘Check me for broken skin.’</p>
<p>Fraser lifted a brow in surprise.</p>
<p>‘I want you to be able to come against me. So,  check me; make sure that it’s safe.’</p>
<p>‘Well,’ Fraser said, endeavoring to take  this request in his stride, ‘I’m not sure if a visual inspection is really  adequate…’</p>
<p>‘Oh, if I can’t trust a Mountie to be that  thorough, who <em>can</em> I trust?’</p>
<p>A moment passed while Fraser considered  this. Ray was correct: they had nothing to fear if Fraser’s semen – or blood –  contacted Ray’s skin, as long as that skin was healthy and unbroken. ‘All  right,’ Fraser said. He trusted himself and his powers of observation; even if  a doctor had assured him Ray was safe for whatever activity he had planned,  Fraser would still double-check the facts himself.</p>
<p>Fraser sat up on the side of the bed,  swinging his legs to the floor, and reached for the lamp, bringing it to the  near corner of his father’s trunk. Then he indicated that Ray should sit up  against the pillows. The lamp’s glow bathed the pale olive of Ray’s slim belly…  Fraser grasped the man’s hips in either hand, and leant close. He began the  inspection by pressing a kiss to the skin in question; Ray gave a happy little  moan.</p>
<p>‘Does it look OK?’ Ray asked after Fraser  had scrutinized him very closely for a while, covering each safe area with dry  little kisses.</p>
<p>‘So far, so good.’</p>
<p>‘I love you, Benny,’ Ray murmured, settling  back luxuriously as Fraser eased the man’s pants and shorts off for an  examination of his genitals and upper thighs. ‘You know,’ Ray said a while  later, ‘maybe we’ll never get around to doing anything that needs a condom. But  I’d let you, Fraser.’</p>
<p>He looked up at his lover, startled enough  to forget about punctuating the last area of examination with a kiss.</p>
<p>‘I’d let you fuck me. Because I love you,  and I trust you. I trust you to keep me safe.’ Assuming – correctly – that Fraser  was done, Ray slithered down the bed and into Fraser’s embrace. ‘I want you to  know that fierceness,’ Ray declared, ‘that joy. I want you to find that in me.’</p>
<p>‘Ray, please…’</p>
<p>‘Not tonight, though,’ Ray added with a  chuckle. ‘I’ve got other plans for tonight.’ Mischievously, the man began  peeling off Fraser’s already disarrayed clothes. ‘Don’t you trust me, Benny?’</p>
<p>‘Of course I do.’</p>
<p>‘Really?’</p>
<p>Fraser smiled at him, though he knew it was  a tight kind of smile. ‘I <em>have</em> to  trust you, Ray.’</p>
<p>‘Why’s that?’ They were both naked now, and  Ray was arranging Fraser to lie back on the bed, just where he wanted him.</p>
<p>‘Because I love you so much that I will do <em>anything</em> for you, Ray, anything you ask.’</p>
<p>That gave Ray pause, as indeed it should. A  moment passed as Ray thought about the matter. ‘Even…’ he tentatively said, ‘even  if I asked you to take Frank Zuko down?’</p>
<p>‘You wouldn’t ask that of me,’ Fraser  replied with great certainty. ‘Not since Irene. You changed your mind after she  died.’</p>
<p>‘Oh. I guess I did. Yeah, and I guess I  wouldn’t…’ Ray sounded sad about that.</p>
<p>Fraser let a moment go by. Then he  whispered, ‘Make love to me, Ray.’</p>
<p>‘Yeah…’ And the man returned to the moment.  ‘I can do that,’ he said, a smile growing.</p>
<p>Ray lay himself down on top of Fraser, fit  them together as neatly as if they were made for each other. And then he began  moving, gently thrusting himself against Fraser, establishing a wonderfully  direct communion between the core of Ray’s sexuality and the core of Fraser’s… It  was divine.</p>
<p>To be <em>known</em>,  and to be <em>loved</em> regardless – to be  thoroughly known, as thoroughly as Ray knew him, and nevertheless to be loved  without condition – in fact to be given the very emotion that Fraser had tried  to gift the world… Fraser grasped for a way of expressing his gratitude, but  words failed him. Oh, to realize that from now on, whether he was alone or with  Ray, Fraser need never be lonely again… The power of that went beyond the  merely dramatic, right to the heart of the matter.</p>
<p>Fraser lay there quietly, watching Ray as the  man moved over him. Ray’s beautiful, mobile face was registering everything the  man was experiencing; and Fraser reveled in the congruency of Ray Vecchio, the  existential honesty, the clear shining <em>lightness</em> of him…</p>
<p>‘Benny,’ Ray murmured, with a puzzled frown  briefly knotting his brow, ‘what are you doing?’</p>
<p>‘<em>Loving</em> you, Ray.’</p>
<p>‘That’s good. I could do with plenty of  that.’</p>
<p>‘I’m glad, because I’m going to continue  loving you, every day of my life.’</p>
<p>Ray was in that intense place beyond  smiling; he bent his head and kissed Fraser, Ray’s generous mouth moist and  warm and involving. When Ray broke the kiss, those hazel eyes provided an  intense communion of their own…</p>
<p>…and that was when the spiritual and the  physical combined, the love and the lust ignited, and Fraser’s feelings and  reactions transcended the mundane here-and-now. It was as if he were being  blessed by the universe.</p>
<p>Orgasms swept through them both, though  Fraser only became conscious of that as he quietened once more. Something  awesome and indescribable had taken place, and it was really only afterwards  that he could truly appreciate it. Ray was trembling in his arms, face hidden  against Fraser’s throat; and their bodies pressed against each other, still  vaguely echoing the thrusts, delightfully slippery with honey-semen. Joy  belatedly coursed through Fraser’s veins, tingling his skin alive, sending his  heart racing all over again…</p>
<p>‘Ray?’ he eventually murmured. ‘Are you all  right?’</p>
<p>‘Yeah,’ Ray replied on a wisp of a breath.  ‘God, you’re something else, Benton Fraser.’</p>
<p>‘You, as well.’</p>
<p>Ray lifted his head, and warily met Fraser’s  gaze. ‘Oh, God…’ Apparently needing a little distance right now, Ray shakily  shifted to sit up on the side of the bed.</p>
<p>Fraser forced himself to move, though he’d  rather lie there bonelessly for the rest of his life. He collected a towel from  the cupboard, and then crouched before Ray in order to wipe him clean. Safety  first… When Fraser was done, he knelt there on the floorboards, patient; when  Ray eventually looked at him again, Fraser smiled, and rose for the lightest of  kisses.</p>
<p>But when Ray spoke, he sounded worried. ‘I  love you, Benny, and I’m never going to <em>stop</em> loving you, but people won’t like it, people won’t understand.’</p>
<p>‘I don’t care.’</p>
<p>‘You know, the Pope doesn’t like it.’</p>
<p>‘I don’t <em>care</em>,’ Fraser declared, heartfelt; thoroughly abandoning his  shyness. Then he belatedly thought to ask, ‘Do you care about the Pope, Ray?’</p>
<p>‘I don’t know. What about the RCMP…?’</p>
<p>‘<em>I  don’t care</em>, Ray.’</p>
<p>‘Well, good.’ He added, ‘I guess I don’t, either,  then.’</p>
<p>‘Are you sure, Ray?’</p>
<p>The man stared off into the future for a  moment, pensive. Then, when Ray returned to himself, he blessed Fraser with a  smile. A true smile. ‘Hey, I’m not gonna go shouting it from the rooftops,  Benny, next time you’re chasing some low-life across them – but, no, I don’t  care. If people figure it out, they figure it out. There won’t be one of them  who isn’t jealous <em>I’m</em> the guy who won  you…’</p>
<p>‘You won me?’ Fraser murmured, feeling  ridiculously light-hearted. ‘Was it a lucky dip or a raffle?’</p>
<p>‘Neither, you moron. It was a…’ Ray  frowned, and avoided his gaze again. ‘It was like a quest.’</p>
<p>‘If you’ve been questing, then – if you won  the prize, that means you’re the hero.’</p>
<p>Ray looked heart-achingly doubtful.</p>
<p>‘You’re precious to me, Ray Vecchio,’  Fraser declared. ‘Every facet of you is unique. If I have to spend the rest of  my life convincing you that you’re a hero, I will.’ Fraser took both the man’s  hands in his. ‘That is my oath to you.’</p>
<p>‘Hey, I’m not arguing. Much. If you really  want to spend your last years doing that…’</p>
<p>Fraser smiled up at him; giving Ray his  truest smile. ‘I can’t imagine a nobler quest.’</p>
<p>‘Noble? What about doing it for the sheer  unadulterated pleasure of being with me?’</p>
<p>‘That, too,’ Fraser declared. ‘I promise you: <em>that</em>, as well.’ And the two men were  at last one.</p>
<p>♦</p>
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